


Claim

by CrystalDen



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Ben Solo, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, And angsty, Angry Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Heavy Angst, Knotting, Masturbation, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Omega Rey (Star Wars), POV Rey, Painful Sex, Rey Needs A Hug, Slow Burn, So much angst, Teacher-Student Relationship, Therapy, Trauma, Vaginal Fingering, brief mention of childhood neglect, but we will get there in one piece, eventually a little fluffy, hey did I mention that this was slow burn, not fluffy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26179588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalDen/pseuds/CrystalDen
Summary: Every few weeks, Rey visits the stark, white building.She sits and waits patiently for the soothing scent to overpower her.Her Alpha.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 148
Kudos: 289





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is meant to unravel...slowly.
> 
> Mind the tags for spoilers, trigger warnings.
> 
> Enjoy. Thank you for reading :)

* * *

The combination of the avocado green tiles and the fluorescent lighting now haunts Rey’s dreams. The various designs and cracks forever seared on her brain. 

During the day, she keeps herself occupied. She has to keep thoughts of this place at bay.

At night, she drifts right back here. The same view of the tile from that uncomfortable chair. The flickering of the overhead lights making her eyes ache. The sharp buzz of locked doors and the heavy slam of gates shuffling every few minutes.

It takes her a while to realize that it’s her body recognizing the anticipation. The slow, torturous build up of being so near.

They’re never in any hurry to bring him. The first few times, she would bring something to read to help with the wait. Her stomach would end up in knots, keeping her from focusing on anything but the sound of her own breath. She never touched the book. The pages became worn from the travel back and forth beneath chapstick, pencils, pens, and various stray items in her bag.

Waiting.

She shuts her eyes and rests her head on her hands, feeling herself drift off, with her knees bouncing in a soothing, rhythmic motion. She won’t fall asleep. She knows when it’s time. 

She’s let her guard down here before. The dreams are different, almost pleasant, as if this nearness gives her permission to feel whole. She often dreams of trips they never took, lives they’ve never had, and words never spoken.

She used to hate them.

Not anymore. 

Now she looks forward to the relief of dreams not featuring that fucking green avocado tile.

The nightmare features prominently in her work with her therapist.

She paid a lot of money to find out that she really doesn’t like waiting. She’s been doing it since she was a child. Waiting for her parents to come back, waiting for a family to take her in, waiting for someone to sit with her at her new school, waiting for that acceptance letter to come in.

Waiting for him to notice her.

Waiting for the time to be right.

And now.

When she’s far away from him, without him, she’s always waiting.

* * *

  
  
  


Rey wipes the drool pooling on the side of her mouth. 

She wipes her eyes and glances up, hoping to catch the state of her appearance in the thick plexiglass. 

She didn’t need to fall asleep today. She needs a clear head before seeing him.

She tries to remember everything that they had told her about the new terms. She tries to remember the words of the miniature speeches she had written out.

She can barely see her reflection. She rubs her neck nervously.

Luckily, she wasn’t wearing any makeup. Her hair would have to do in its current smushed state.

She closes her eyes and tries to breathe deeply, willing herself not to cry. He would have to understand. He would have to listen to her. 

He doesn’t have a choice.

She begins to massage her palms and wrists, trying to calm the twisting and turning threatening to rise in her chest.

She would let the words fall out. He didn’t have to agree to her reasoning. He didn’t have to like it. He just needed to hear it.

She feels the beads of sweat dusting her forehead. She would let the anxiety permeate the space, let him see it written on her heart.

Her head jerks up at the slam of a door. Her heart leaps at the sound of her desire and her doom. She hears the final slam. The final layer that would bring them face to face.

She stands up from the cramped table and considers pacing. But, it was never enough time.

She forces herself to stop, sitting back down. 

She has to wait.

A guard calls out to the man behind the door and Rey hears the final buzz. 

“Patient 122120, Benjamin Solo. For visitation. You got thirty minutes.”

She inhales deeply, seeking anything to calm herself before she sees his face.

Ben had always been tall. He had always been dark and fair. As he enters the room staring through the glass, she wonders how many times she has been surprised about his appearance. How he looms over her.

Over everything.

The chair never seems as if it was going to fit him, but he always manages to fold himself in and scoot up to the table. 

The first few times she came to see him, she could always see the look of deep betrayal. As the weeks and months passed, it would change some. 

Resentment, frustration, anger. 

These days he always seems resigned. 

They tried to address it at one point. She was motivated by guilt. He was motivated by his seething hatred. They only knew how to lash out. Only managed to wound. That day, their time was up before they knew it. She could only watch, her fists beating the glass as he was dragged away, his face red and fearful. She felt ill for weeks until she returned. 

After that incident they sit silently for each visit, attending to business and letting the allotted time pass. But, as he would leave, she would always sit, hands resting on the table, watching them calmly escort him out. Afraid to be left with the image of him thrashing about. 

No more illness. No more tightly wound ropes of tension in her stomach.

She shakes her head and pushes away the memory. How many times has she had to do that?

She’s lost count.

Neither of them wants to be there for the full time, but they need it.

“Rey, you look nervous again.” He’s staring at her eyes, his hands sandwiched between his knees. He always waits for her to make the first move. 

She begins to chew lightly on her thumbnail as he continues to look at her shifting in the chair. He sighs and looks away, shaking his head.

“I hate when you do this. You always look scared or nervous or…” he trails off, “but I can smell your relief.”

“I know.” She forces her hands down away from her mouth and into her lap. She looks down, inhaling slowly.

She lays her hands flat on the table, allowing them to move forward a few inches.

“We don’t have to do this today,” he interrupts her movement.

She pauses and looks up at him and swallows. She closes her eyes and rests her forehead on the cold metal table, unable to look at him.

“Rey.”

She breathes in and his body leans toward the glass.

“Rey, I’m not going to beg you,” he says. He swallows and lowers his voice. “I don’t want to beg you.” 

It hurts him to say it.

“Shut up,” she whispers into the table, a cry threatening to escape her throat.

He pauses his descent forward and sits back. She lifts her index finger up, and he sighs heavily. Her hand falls back down to the table.

“Sorry. I just...I need a second.”

“Rey,” he says, asking.

She takes a breath and lifts her head. She reaches her hands forward, sliding them through the open slot under the glass.

He sits back and glances at her face, then to her small hands now bridging the gap between their two worlds. She watches as his chest expands and he pushes himself further back into his seat.

“Ben.” She flips her palms up in invitation.

He hesitates. If she has her habits, he has them too. She rolls her eyes.

“Ben, I hate when you do this, you know,” she says with a hint of sarcasm. It’s weak. She allows her fingers to dance, inviting him. Toying.

He crosses his arms over his large chest and relaxes his frame into the chair. His chin lifted. A challenge.

With her hands still resting on the space in front of him, she drops her head down again. 

Fucking waiting.

She knows what he wants. 

She’s being selfish, really. It was something so small. Why couldn't she just concede without the show? Wasn’t it bad enough that he had lost everything? 

She looks up at him in a question, his face still, unmoving.

Patient.

She was always waiting. God, she hates waiting. 

She wants him to wait too.

It’s the last thought that drags her from the spiral. She’s being childish. If this was going to work, she would have to start mending things. There was so much hurt, so much...so much. 

She swallows, begging the fear to settle.

She can’t look at him. She hopes he can hear her muffled plea and would look on her posture as an act of submission.

She knows his eyes are on her, his body still stubbornly forced into a carefree position.

“Alpha.”

The drag of chair legs on the floor. A pause. His breath stops, his heart thudding. His scent spiking in answer.

She inhales, audibly.

“Alpha, please.”

Rey keeps her head down as she feels the warm clutch of hands and arms twisting around her own. She feels her body melt into the furniture. The room feels bleak. Empty.

But, her hands. Her hands feel like fire. She keeps her forehead to the table as she allows it to loll back and forth to his pulling and grasping.

Most visits with Ben were predictable, but never this part. She learned a long time ago never to judge what either of them said at this point. Sure, she would talk about it with her therapist if something really bothered her, but she never could face addressing things with Ben.

She may be surprised by his actions or words, but often it was just as much her own response to these things. Once, he nuzzled her hands and fingers all while lovingly telling her he hated her, despised her. She couldn’t explain why her body released slick. Couldn’t explain why she grabbed his other hand and bit him. 

Couldn’t explain why she replayed it in her mind as she touched herself that night.

They could end one of those meetings angry and raw, but then claw through the small opening of the glass for one last minute to linger with the scent.

It was biology. 

She cursed that damn word at this point.

She was so tired of it.

“Omega. Omega,” he said, the words broken between kisses to her knuckles. Rey could feel the tears drop on her hands before she heard the sobs, his shoulders sagging.

She inhales a little more deeply.

His scent. Happy, sad, frustrated.

She sits up and watches Ben as he rubs her hands on his neck. He’s mouthing something that she can’t make out, likely to keep her from hearing any form of praise that may draw her ire.

He was more free with letting go at this part. She was often clinical, scenting and begging her body not to enjoy it. 

But, Ben. Ben often looked after what little access he had to her body like he was worshipping her. 

Rey wasn’t there. Too full of anxiety and fear. 

She needs to reframe her thinking in regards to Ben. She was working on it.

She just needed to take the necessary actions to begin.

She continues to watch as he licks the inside of her wrists, scenting her. Rey can't help but imagine his attention elsewhere. His tongue...lingering. Making her spine twist in pleasure.

Before she can push the thought away, she sees his nostrils flare and feels the arrival of a small amount of slick between her thighs.

He says nothing as she pulls her hands away, as if he expected her to deny him.

“I’m sorry, Alpha.” She reaches her hands back toward him, pulling his arms and hands in her direction. She can see the tracks of tears clearly drawn down his face. 

This part was always so confusing for them.

“Omega, don’t. You’ll ruin the scent.”

_ With your guilt. _ Unspoken, but hanging there all the same.

She pulls his hands closer and reaches down to scent him. When she’s rubbed her face and glands along her normal path, she tries an experimental lick on his wrists. He sits up, eyes focused on her mouth, confused by her attention. His fingers tense slightly. She hesitates, trying the words out in her mind, before whispering them.

“Alpha, you smell good.” His fists clench and she softly caresses his hand, pushing his fingers to relax and open while she whispers into his skin.

“Shh, Alpha. Omega is here. I’m here, Ben.” 

Oh, how his body responds to that. How his scent opens up. How his breath catches in his chest.

“My Alpha. So good to me. My mate.”

He sucks in a breath sharply and begins to pull away. She clings tighter and looks up. 

Panic.

“No, I’m not done.”

“Yes, you are.” He tugs.

“No, Alpha. I’m not.” Pull.

“Rey,” a warning growl, “We’re done for right now.” 

He yanks his hands away, breaking the bridge.

She smacks her hand flat against the glass, tears filling her eyes. The emptiness and loss filling her head.

“Alpha. Please,” she whines. His eyes grow wide and look off to the side. She can see how he wants to respond to her plea. He takes a breath and presses his lips into a hard line, hardening his expression. She watches as a flash of something crosses his mind, and he smirks in response.

“Well, Rey. I guess you do know how much I love hearing you say that.” 

Venom.

She bites her lip and lets the tears fall, her shoulders shaking. Her palm sliding down the glass.

They both sit there, unable to meet each other’s eyes and crying. It’s been a while since one of their visits had taken this kind of turn. 

She guesses that maybe they were due.

Ben nods at her as if he hears her thoughts. 

Sometimes. 

Sometimes she wonders.

He reaches out for her and she looks at his outstretched fingers, beckoning her forward. She meets him halfway. Hands clasped, foreheads pressed up against the glass looking at each other.

She slides a hand down the front of her leggings, beneath her underwear. He sucks in a breath. He knows what she’s doing. Before he can stop her, she gently caresses her folds and moans, gathering a bit of slick to the tips. She reaches out, offering it to him. 

“I shouldn’t,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut. “I nearly went into rut last time.” He looks down sadly.

From the outside, no one would understand this kind of apology.

She stretches her arm forward, waiting. His breath stutters.

Rey watches as he shifts his body in the wooden chair, leaning his face towards her fingers. Acknowledging, but not accepting.

She closes her eyes as he licks her fingers clean, her body trickling more slick at the pleasure of his smell and touch.

* * *

She feels the minutes tick, lost in the power their bond holds.

Her forehead still pressed against the glass, she shifts and catches sight of the clock behind him. Her body stills and she sits up, slowly pulling away.

Rey rests her hands, wet from his attention, on top of her thighs. Nervously tapping at the thought of her next statement.

It would have made more sense to tell him as soon as he sat down. Give them space and time to talk. Let him ask questions. She had tried to convince her therapist over and over.

“ _ Just let us scent each other first. I’ll calm down. He’ll calm down. Then I can tell him.” _

Now faced with impending conversation, Rey is hesitant.

“Rey, stop thinking so loudly. You’re giving me a headache.” He’s staring at her attempting to work out the look on her face. 

She huffs at that and sits up.

“Ben.” She pauses. She can feel her heartbeat pickup. She has to calm herself. 

She tries again.

“Ben, I need to talk to you.” She looks into his face, twisting her hands in her lap.

Anxiety. Hurt. Hope. Desire. Longing. Anger. Hope.

All projected at her through their bond.

A heavy cocktail.

“Now you’re giving  _ me _ a headache,” she blurts out.

He shifts and sighs.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she replies, desperately trying to project a sense of calm. She reaches out for his hand and he takes it, lightly touching her fingers.

“What do you want to talk about, Rey?” 

He’s already tired of this conversation, this moment, of her usual games. She’s given him plenty of reasons to have that tone, but she has to forge ahead.

“I need to tell you something.”

Deep breath. 

He nods.

“Ben. Alpha,” she swallowed her hesitation, “Mate.” A shiver passes through his body and snakes its way to her core. “I have made arrangements for you to be released.” 

She relaxes just slightly at the weight of her words finally spoken.

“Released?” He grasps her fingers.

“Into my care.” His brow furrows, his eyes growing darker.

“Your... _ care _ ?” She nods. His eyes were full of questions she couldn’t...

She made a show of looking at the clock. She couldn’t look directly into his eyes.

Coward.

“I don’t really have time to...ugh...tell.. you everything today, but I have made arrangements. I have asked that you be released into my care. You just have to consent...to my care.”

She can’t say everything she wants. She’s not ready. She just keeps repeating the stale, rehearsed lines over and over again.

He begins to pull her arm in a bid to get her to look at his face. She can only muster the courage to stare at her fingers, turning red from the grip of his own, slowly squeezing tighter and tighter.

“I have been working with my therapist on the paperwork. She is familiar with our case.”

“Our case?” He pulls her closer. Like a tether.

She nods quickly, trying to continue through the growl escaping his chest.

“Yes,  _ our _ case. She’s very familiar. She’s been working with me.”

“ _ Omega.”  _ There it was. That voice.

She looks up into his eyes.

“Yes, Alpha,” she whispers in response.

He says nothing, but lets his gaze linger over her body. She wants to look away from it all. She wants to run. She wants to forget this. She wants to disappear, but she has to face it. She has to face  _ him _ .

She has to wait. She deserves to wait.

He finally nods for her to continue, and Rey doesn’t look away from his eyes.

He’s been waiting too long.

The door loudly buzzes just outside. 

They only have a minute at the most.

He presses his mouth into her hands, licking her wrists.

“Alpha, I’ll be back tomorrow.”

He stops. He pulls her closer.

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t just tell…,” she looks down in frustration before lifting her head again to look at him. “I’m a coward. I promise I’ll explain more tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” he repeats. He shakes his head as if he doesn't comprehend. The time between their visits often spanned a month or, in some cases, months apart.

“Alpha, listen.” Rey presses against the glass, reaching for his neck. He understands the gesture and pushes close, trying to hear her through the thick layers separating them. She reaches a few fingers toward his neck, brushing over the scent glands. She can feel the wash of calm over them both. 

“I promise I will be back tomorrow. We can talk more.”

Another buzz. A slam.

They both look towards the door.

“Visitation is over,” someone yells through the door.

Their only warning to separate. Anything beyond that…

“Ben!” He looks back at her face. “Be good,” she says. His face falls. 

He doesn’t understand. She needs him to understand.

“Mate, don’t do anything to provoke them.”

His face shatters a bit at the admonishment. He releases her hands and steps away from the table. He looks broken. 

She isn’t trying to break him.

He smiles bitterly. 

“Okay, Rey.” 

Sometimes she didn’t like the sound of her name on his lips.

The door swings open, and he walks through. She sits there until she can hear each of the doors closing behind him, leading him back. 

In that moment, the flood of emotions pours over her. So often she scoops herself off of the seat and leaves, unable to function or be of much use the rest of the day.

Now she has to figure out how to pick up the pieces of what was destroyed and build something new.

Patchwork.

She walks to her car, shaken by his last words.  _ Okay, Rey. _ He doesn’t trust her, doesn’t believe her. 

She doesn’t blame him. 

She’s the reason why he’s here.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the tags for trigger warnings, spoilers. There are a few new ones added since last time.
> 
> Thank you for reading :)

_“How do you picture a future with Ben now that you’ve been physically and emotionally separated over the past year,” her doctor asks._

_Rey sits on the small couch in her therapist’s office, rubbing her hands together. She bites her lip and begins to chew lightly along the edge of her thumbnail. Not enough to break the nail, just enough to satisfy the urge. She stares at the carpet and the clutter of tchotchkes on the table._

_“What’s happening right now, Rey?”_

_She looks up._

_“I don’t know,” she says, rubbing her hands down her thighs._

_“Well, tell me what you’re feeling, so we can…”_

_“No. I mean, I don’t know what I picture,” she says._

_She looks up at Dr. Holdo who studies her with a gentle expression. She sets her notebook and pen down on the coffee table, sitting back and crossing her arms in front of her._

_“Have you allowed yourself to imagine what life will be like if Ben comes home?”_

_Yes, she has. She doesn’t want to think about it. She doesn’t want to admit what she’s thought about._

_Dr. Holdo looks at Rey, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees._

_“Yes, I have. I’ve imagined it,” she says, finally, patting her thighs nervously._

_Holdo smiles._

_“Care to elaborate?”_

_Rey inhales deeply. She sits up, poised and ready to answer._

“Miss?”

_“I think about it all of the time.”_

“Miss, can I help you?”

_“I want him to come home,” she says._

“Miss, are you here to see a patient?”

Rey shakes her head and looks up at the guard at his post. She smiles politely.

“Uh, yes. Yes, I am here to see a patient,” she stumbles through the words.

She looks at the stark, white building. It’s clean, impressive and devoid of any color or life. She opens her bag for the guard to view. They check her identification, and she stands there and waits until they will inevitably wave her through. She hasn’t built any friendships here, but most of the workers recognize her at this point.

Looking around at the high fence, the armed guards, and the carefully controlled movements of everyone present, it’s hard to imagine the facility rehabilitating anyone.

A facility full of Alphas, contained for their violence, behavioral issues, or general danger to society.

And Ben.

She shivers and walks inside.

* * *

  
  


Rey waits alone in a different room. A different room furnished with a different table and different chairs. Her stomach flutters.

She stares at a metal bar fixed to the middle of the table, large bolts visible.

She feels sick. 

She grabs one of the chairs to hold her steady. She looks around at the paint on the walls, the light fixtures. The room is starting to spin. Maybe she needs to breathe. She’s looking for something familiar. Something from which she can draw some comfort.

Her eyes land on the floor.

She closes them. She doesn’t have to open them to picture what’s there.

Avocado green.

Without warning, the door swings open. She braces herself.

“Okay, Rey. Are we ready? How are we feeling?” Dr. Holdo swings into the space with another doctor from the facility on her heels. Rey opens her eyes. Dr. Holdo is smiling, a thick envelope at her side.

She walks over and places her hand on Rey’s shoulder and looks in her eyes.

“Hello, Rey,” she says gently when she sees her face. “Are you ready?”

Rey raises her hand to bite her nail, but stops herself and releases it back down by her side. She looks at the facility doctor, the face stern and annoyed. 

She looks back at Holdo.

“How is this going to go,” Rey asks her, avoiding the eyes of the other doctor.

Holdo flops the folder down and rests against the table, her arms crossed, her body language open.

“Well, all of the arrangements have been made with the hospital. They’ll bring Ben in to allow you to scent each other and allow you to settle, then we will talk.”

Rey drops her head, glancing behind Dr. Holdo.

“Will anyone be around when we scent each other,” she asks, lowering her voice.

Dr. Holdo stands up and puts her arm around Rey. She squeezes her shoulder, wrapping her in a side hug.

“Of course not, Rey,” she says, smiling. “ _That_ is a very private thing.”

Rey nods several times, exhaling. She forces a small smile and swallows.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

Dr. Holdo glances back at the doctor, his pale blue eyes leering at Rey. She doens’t attempt to look for a name on his badge. She doesn’t care. She wants to forget this place as soon as she’s done with it.

“We’ll be in here long enough for them to bring in Ben…”

Rey’s eyes grow wide.

“Wait. In here. What about the other room,” Rey asks, her voice rising a bit at the end.

“If the Omega is uncomfortable being so close to the Alpha…,” the doctor begins, his pasty, chapped lips smack on each consonant.

Dr. Holdo eyes Rey carefully as she speaks. Rey recognizes the look from their sessions when Dr. Holdo is trying to help her navigate something. 

“Nonsense,” Dr. Holdo says, her arm around Rey. She looks over at the facility doctor with a smile. “These mates have been separated for a long time,” she says, casually. 

Rey touches her scent glands at her wrists. She looks at both pairs of eyes on her.

“I think I’m just nervous,” she says.

She says it, because it’s the most honest thing she can say right now. 

The knock at the door causes all three heads to turn, and Rey’s heart takes a leap.

_Ben. Ben. Ben._

“We’ll allow you two to have some time alone first. When you’re ready to discuss the agreement, just knock and I’ll come and speak with you both,” she says, tilting her head.

Rey stares at the door. She inhales, wondering if she’ll be able to catch his scent yet.

“Rey.”

She snaps her head towards Dr. Holdo.

“Yes, that’s fine.”

It’s not fine. 

None of this is fine. She can barely keep herself together for her own sake, much less to keep up appearances for the watchful eyes within these walls.

She backs into the table, leaning, trying to appear casual like Dr. Holdo did moments ago.

She watches them walk out, Dr. Holdo winking and smiling. The door closes and Rey slides over, sinking into the chair.

She doesn’t know how long she has before he appears, but she no longer has the slamming doors and buzzes to alert her to his presence, and the thought leaves her anxious. 

She smoothes her blouse. She looks down at her outfit, at her jeans, blouse, and flats. She could have worn a dress. He would have liked that. She could have worn blue. He’s said before that he liked her in blue or green.

She places her hands underneath her thighs, begging them not to shake. She stares at the door. Her eyes narrow, waiting for the handle to turn.

She hears shuffling from down the hallway and straightens up. She lets her hands fall to grip the chair.

_Ben._

She hears the door handle turn and quickly stands, unsure of what to do, but ready to receive him.

The door swings open for a party of three, two guards and one Ben.

Their eyes meet, and he quickly looks down at his hands, the mild restraints keeping him contained. The guard leading him inside walks to the table, looping one end of his cuffs to that metal bar fixed to the table.

Rey looks at the guard, confused.

“That’s not necessary. He’s no longer a patient,” she says, hoping to sound firm.

The woman, a Beta, continues locking the restraints, only sparing a glance in her direction.

“Until the Alpha leaves through that front gate with his papers, he’s a patient,” she says, her tone, a bit unfeeling in light of the job. Rey’s thoughts drift to the outside of the building.

Lifeless. 

She watches as they test the length, allowing Ben space to sit and room to stand close to the table. She spares a look at his face. His features are careful, guarded.

Until he leaves through the front gate with his papers, he won’t believe that this is all true.

The guards make a quick exit, shutting the door behind them. 

Without watchful eyes, alone and so terribly close. She takes a breath to try again to calm herself, inhaling.

She’s thought about this moment. How long has it been?

_Pulling and grasping at each other, bodies sticking to soft leather. Struggling to breathe in the confined space. A small tug of her ponytail._

Rey touches her fingertips to the back of her head, rubbing a small circle.

She shakes her head, wishing away the flush to her skin.

She turns to him and his body is reacting much the same way, nostrils flaring, fists clenching. She can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking about the same thing, but she knows it’s just the rush of pheromones, the effect of this proximity. She feels her heart race, and she exhales slowly, nodding to the chair and encouraging him to sit down.

Sitting at the table looking at Ben, she realizes how silly this all seems. After all of this time, they’ve been limited in contact, forced to touch and scent through a small slot through plexiglass. Observed like rats in a study.

But, now she can touch, be touched and she chooses to sit barely within reach. She sees herself in the last year or more, the empty feelings she’s so desperately ready to chase away.

She stands, slowly, his eyes watching her. 

_So careful._

He’s _so_ careful not to react. She feels her feet connect heel to toe with the ground as she crosses to his side, her heart like the wings of a hummingbird.

“I’ve been good, Rey.”

She stops. 

_Shit._

Her words from yesterday come back to her.

She swallows, choking back on a biting quip in response. 

They don’t know how to do this. They don’t know how to be normal around each other, whatever that entails. They don’t know what it is to be in a healthy relationship. 

They know secrets, they know lust. 

She’s still clinging to her first impression of him. This beautiful Alpha with his hands braced on his desk, leaning forward and smiling at the multiple faces in the room. His eyes alight as he spoke passionately for over an hour. 

God, how she wants to touch him. How she wants to hold more than hands, arms. She wants to press herself up against his chest and take him in. Feel his arms drift down and caress her body. It’s been too long.

“Do you want to know how good I’ve been, Rey,” he asks, a painful smile across his face.

Who is he now? 

She presses her lips together.

Who was he then?

“Ben.” She lightly drops her fingers to the table, a gesture. A request.

But, what could she ask of him? What could she possibly say to soften the blow of the many months spent without his life, his work? Without her?

She’s afraid. 

Afraid of what he may say, what he may do. Her mind knows that their recovery is a delicate balance. It’s the puzzle she can’t quite solve or see the large picture. Maybe there’s a missing piece. 

But, her body. Her body knows the way the pieces go. It can see every delicate curve, every way in which it makes sense. Her mind may recognize the betrayal and conflict, but her body knows that all she wants is to feel his skin and smooth the fine, silky hairs on his arms, feel the cords of muscle turning. 

She slides her hand over the table top, moving closer to his side. She feels herself sending energy to her fingertips, begging him to understand, hoping to keep them both calm.

He watches her and his breath hitches. 

“When they took me in for my conditioning last night, I only screamed a few times.” She pauses, her fingers grasping for courage to continue, begging herself not to react too strongly.

Rey keeps her feet moving forward. He’s trying to provoke her.

“I didn’t throw anything. Didn’t try to break anything,” he says through gritted teeth. He can smell her. She can see his body attempting to relax. He’s fighting it. He can’t push himself away from her though. Her only aid in this assault of his senses is the restraints keeping him from backing away entirely.

She stops short, standing in front of him. He looks down at the floor, moving his hands in a way, like a prayer. He’s trying not to touch her. Not without permission.

“Alpha,” she whispers. He flinches.

She keeps her hand within his sight as she offers her arm, like always. When he doesn’t take it immediately, she begs herself to not feel wounded. 

The rules are not the same, and the stakes are higher.

“Alpha…,” she stops herself before she can say _Please,_ nearly forming the word with her mouth. 

He’s not moving, and she’s trying to calculate how much longer she can do this when she sees his control begin to crumble. He closes his eyes, and Rey sees his bottom lip roll out, an outward expression of the inner turmoil.

“I was good, Rey.” He sighs, a silent cry in his throat. “Just like you asked,” he says, his voice shaky.

She reaches for him, and he sinks into her arms. 

He feels small, almost helpless like this. He clutches at her, and they wrap their arms around each other. He’s twisting and pulling her close, his arms continuing to wrap around her waist and back, neverending. She lets him bury his face in between her breasts. He cries softly, and she tries to stand there, a tree rooted firmly in the earth. She sways and shushes him. She watches the way his brow furrows and releases, and Rey wonders what thoughts may be haunting him in that moment. 

She inhales and nearly crashes into the floor beneath her from the mouthwatering scent of Alpha. 

Her Alpha. 

Holding her, touching her, gently caressing the outline of her breasts with the tip of his nose.

He’s taking her in and scenting her in ways that she’s only dreamed about in his absence. She can feel his hands reach up and grab above her shoulder blades. He pulls her down. His nose brushes against her nipple. Her hands go to his hair, coaxing out a small moan from his lips. She pulls slightly and sighs, head falling back. 

His chest swells at the touch of her fingers. Their scents bloom and intertwine. 

They inhale and exhale together, a little ocean of sound. 

Rey’s nearly straddling him, one knee next to his thigh, the other bracing itself on the armrest. With one hand pulling her to him, he rests the other on her knee, rubbing a small circle. She feels his mouth moving against her sternum. She hears faint whispers. She stays quiet, but anything he utters will forever be lost on her skin.

She looks down at the finger drawing patterns on her knee, wishing he would move higher up her thigh, her eyes blinking closed. 

She tries to pin down her thoughts, but can’t control the way they pass through like sand passing through fingers. She feels a pool of slick collecting between her thighs.

He groans and his response brings her back to herself. She holds him, begging him not to move.

This can’t go too far.

Rey moves to stand, and he grabs for her. She lets her hands and fingers trail down his arms and gives a reassuring squeeze.

His chin is tilted up, his eyes looking, searching for something. She feels the small drops of wetness on her blouse.

She touches his tear-stained face, drying his cheeks with her thumbs. He looks up into her eyes, and it’s too much. 

She knows what it will cost her in the long run, but she looks away first.

* * *

  
  
  
  


Before Rey can give the signal, she hears a warning knock at the door.

The door opens to a smiling Dr. Holdo, cheerfully walking into the room. Rey wonders how she manages to keep up the role of the chipper guide in the midst of it all. The other doctor trails behind her, thin limbed and cool in his demeanor.

Ben looks up, and Rey can see his jaw tense at the intrusion. Her instinct takes over as she presses her fingers into the gland on his neck, causing his chest to hum in approval. 

She looks at her fingers in astonishment, not sure if she’s allowed to tend to him in this way. 

“Sorry to interrupt you two. I know it must be difficult to limit this time,” she says, with a chuckle. She says it as if she’s speaking to two newlyweds. 

Dr. Holdo turns back to the figure standing at the door.

“Thank you. That’ll be all,” she says, dismissing the doctor. He eyes Rey and Ben, and Rey notices the way he glances back at Ben.

Rey looks down at him, hearing the door slam once more.

“Rey, why don’t you have a seat next to your mate while we discuss the terms of his release.”

Rey keeps her hands connected to him. She sits and doesn’t ask for permission as she grabs both of his hands. She looks down at the way their elbows, arms, and hands softly drift together back and forth. His hands engulf hers. She smiles at the appearance of safety. A shelter.

She studies the lines of his face, the tiny galaxy of freckles and moles. She can see the honey brown of his eyes, brighter from the light from the window, shining on his face like a mask.

Ben doesn’t meet her eyes for most of the meeting, choosing instead to stare out the window, or at the small hands resting inside of his own. She’s quiet, looking to sense anything from the bond. The only thing emanating from him is disinterest. She suspects this act is more for her benefit, unwilling to give her anything more than what transpired before they were interrupted.

She catches the tight slide of his jaw, back and forth, as he listens to the details.

When they took Ben, his entire estate was transferred to Rey. 

Rey Nobody. 

A graduate student from a small, unforgiving town in the middle of nowhere. 

Rey, who had barely enough money for her grad school application, was now Rey Nobody of Nowhere: a minor heiress.

She had discovered a great deal about her new mate through stacks of paper, some of which she didn’t fully comprehend.

“The FORC recommends the use of a tracking device, but I have assured them that this will not be necessary,” Dr. Holdo says.

Rey breaks her gaze from Ben, her face stricken.

“That’s completely unnecessary,” she interjects. Ben snorts, the first time he has made any noise of consequence since Dr. Holdo began.

They both turn to look at him, his eyes flickering up at the sudden attention. He works his jaw and nods for her to continue.

Rey, still focused on his face, shifts her body towards him. She pulls her hands away from his grasp, still allowing the tips of her fingers to touch the soft flesh of his palm. 

“Okay, I get it,” he says. Dr. Holdo looks up.

“Take my suppressants, see her through her heat, don’t skip my medicine unless I want to breed her, and raise my hand politely when I need something,” he says, annoyed.

He drops her hands, and places the flat of his palms to the table. He rubs the pad of his thumb over a scratch on the table, scrubbing the offending mark away.

Dr. Holdo looks to Rey, smiling and nodding. Rey places her hand on the table, brushing her pinky finger with his.

“Ben,” she says slowly. “You have to agree to this,” she swallows and continues, “You have to if you want to come home...with me.”

He looks out the window and exhales, long and slow. 

“Okay,” he says to Dr. Holdo, avoiding Rey.

“Perfect,” Dr. Holdo says, snapping her folder shut and gathering her things.

“Wait,” he says, halting the movement in the room. “I want to talk to Rey before I sign anything.”

Dr. Holdo stands and laughs, resting her hand on the table and leaning towards them, as if sharing a secret.

“Of course,” she says, waving her hand. “I’ll give you two a few more minutes to be alone.”

She whips around to walk to the door, turning back once she’s opened it.

“Not too long though. We have to get this paperwork moving as soon as possible.” She leaves quickly, the tap of her heels clicking loudly out the door.

“She’s very...happy,” he says.

Rey nearly laughs at that. She bites her lip, smiling at the dry observation. He glances at her, surprised at her reaction and returns her smile, looking down at his hands on the table.

His expression hardens, his lips appearing thin, his brow hooding his eyes.

“Alpha.”

He holds up a hand to stop her, before tapping his fingers back down. He moves his jaw in obvious distress. Rey begins rolling the possibilities through her mind.

_I hate you._

_I’m not going with you._

_You betrayed me._

She tries to quiet them, trying to detach the emotion from fact. He speaks again with some effort.

“Ben,” he says with a slow touch of his hand to the table.

He says his name as if correcting someone. Rey looks at his hand, at his eyes, the way his jaw continues to tense. She has trouble imagining why…

_Oh._

He was correcting her when she called him Alpha.

Rey begins to feel the panic rise, her Omega begging for a chance to make it right.

It had never been easy. Ever since she presented, Rey resented her designation. Omegas were seen as a sacred breed, protected, revered in their status. For Rey, her first heat was torture, lost in a spiral of sweat, arousal, and fear of the unknown.

She had been passed around between foster homes, never having anyone to rely on, except for her case worker. That wasn’t a dependable relationship, it was an obligation. Rey couldn’t imagine having to beg and hope on the kindness of another human to complete her. No matter what her blood, the scent of her pheromones, Rey was convinced that she wasn’t built that way.

“Okay,” she says, trying to soothe her Omega. “Ben.”

He exhales and nods. He clasps his hands together, rubbing lightly over his palms.

“Rey,” he pauses and frowns, “I’m not sure.”

“Al-,” she stops, correcting herself, “Ben, I have been working, and I’ve been trying to get better,” she says, cutting him off. She feels the threat of rejection, and she can’t take it. Not after everything, not after this separation.

“I just want you to come home. We’ll figure it out from there,” she says, staring at the table.

Rey looks back, not expecting to see Ben staring at her face. His shoulders sag, and he leans forward on the table where he rests his elbows. His hands still clasped, he presses his thumbs to his mouth, dragging them across his bottom lip. He looks lost.. 

“I’m sorry, Alpha,” she spits out, the tears welling up, “Please, come home, Ben. I’m sorry.”

_“Rey,”_ he says, letting his Alpha speak.

She sits up, her spine springing straight in response. He buries his face in his hands, and she can feel the regret pouring off of him.

“Fuck,” he spits out. He covers his eyes with one hand, reaching towards her with the other. She waits, letting every breath expand her presence in the space, longing for his touch to soothe her.

“I’ll leave here with you,” he says, his eyes closed, “but, I don’t think I can be what you need.

* * *

  
  


Rey drives home, feeling worse. His words still linger.

_I don’t think I can be what you need._

She grips the steering wheel, her knuckles white. She sits in front of her apartment building, watching rain begin to collect on the windshield. 

Rey rolls the words over and over in her mind. She whispers them in the small space, her eyes opening.

_“Rey.”_

Surely, he wasn’t thinking...

_“Please, Rey.”_

She freezes.

_He’s combing his hands through her hair. He pulls just enough at the root to tilt her chin up, begging her to look at him._

_She looks away, burying her face in his chest, embarrassed by the overwhelming need for him. She looks down to her dress, buttons and collar askew. Her breasts are bare._

_She didn’t even bother wearing a bra when she got dressed to come and see him, slipping on a simple cotton dress, washing her face, and brushing her hair back away from her face._

_She pretends that this all is happening by some circumstance, but she’s aware of the very real, potent effect that they have on each other. She came to him, presenting herself._

_“Let me, Rey,” he says._

_Her hands are clasped behind his neck, holding herself steady. He pushes her up against the wall, his hands firmly gripping her waist. He lifts the skirt, tugging up until his hands touch, skin on skin. He runs his hands down her belly, reaching for the lips of her sex, the slippery slick coating the tips of his fingers. She allows him to caress over her entrance and to her clit, making her jerk and gasp in response._

_“Ben,” she whispers, clutching him tightly. “Please, Ben.”_

_He teases her sex, his fingers circling, but not entering. He drops his head into the crook of her shoulder, letting his nose trail down her neck, slowly inhaling, like testing the bouquet of a fine wine._

_“God, Rey.” he says, licking a small line up to her ear lobe, sucking it into his mouth. “You smell…,” he stops, dragging his fingers through her slick and pushing inside._

_She moans and whines from pleasure. From relief._

_Because, finally._

_Finally._

_She allows herself to surrender to him. To this._

_“Be with me, Rey,” he whispers in her ear, pressing her higher and higher._

_She feels the ache in her hips and thighs, shaking in anticipation._

_“Let me be what you need,” he pleads, thrusting until she cries out in release._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry :( It gets better.
> 
> **I had read/consumed/devoured/delighted in several AUs that were fun, fluffy, smutty, and usually held no consequences for Rey and Ben. I couldn't help but think about what their romance would look like if they were forced to actually deal with the fallout of a new relationship that was microwaved by their circumstances.
> 
> Which is why we now have to suffer along with Rey and Ben who are going to be navigating this new norm. 
> 
> Thank you for reading :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please mind the tags for trigger warnings and spoilers.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who is reading, sharing love through kudos, comments, and recs. I really appreciate your involvement and encouragement. :)

_ Rey squeezes through the crowds of people, pulling the scarf around her neck a bit closer. She wants to avoid the scent of anyone else, but thinks better of it as she’s brushing past a few Alphas eyeing her. _

_ A few follow her with interest, but get close enough to catch her scent and back away. _

_ She’s not used to that happening.  _

_ Her eyes dart around the popular spot. She sees her friends with their heads huddled together at their regular booth. The farthest one from the door. _

_ She stands there taking a deep breath only to realize that she’s pulling the scarf, her bag, and her arms in tight. _

_ She sighs, feeling the fresh prickle from her inflamed gland. She moves to scratch it, forcing her hand back down. _

_ Feeling the rising panic, she bolts for the restroom door.  _

* * *

  
  


Maybe it’s more chartreuse than avocado green. 

Her eyes are drifting around the space, a new one. A waiting room. Rey takes stock of the polish of the floors, the pristine appearance of the walls. Untouched.

She follows the patterns between each tile, deciding once and for all that there are only four distinct patterns. Her mouth curls in one corner when she finds a repeat, two of the same next to each other near the far wall. 

It doesn’t really matter. She’ll never have to see it again.

The thought should be calming, but Rey’s mind has been restless for quite some time. She hates the sight of this place, but now, faced with the absence, with the lack of routine, she may actually find herself missing it.

  
She flicks her thumbnail with the pad of her index finger, itching with need.

She’s pacing when the door opens.

A staff member leads her back through the main entrance where Ben is waiting just outside. Her heart clenches at the absence of his facility uniform.

His back is turned to her and for a moment, he’s just another stranger on the street. She could walk up to him and ask him for directions or his number. He’s wearing the clothes that she brought for him. Navy khakis and a button up. Running her hands over the row of shirts in his closet, she had caressed the soft fabrics as if they were some extension of him, hands freely roaming down the long lines of the arms and chest. She stares at his back and notices the way his shoulders don’t quite strain the fabric as before.

He turns toward her and smiles faintly before casting his eyes down to the ground. 

Dr. Holdo is waiting with him, motioning for them to walk through the main gates.

She says in a lowered voice, “Nothing to worry about, but move quickly and quietly to your car.”

Rey’s stomach flips at the warning. Ben grabs her hand in response, likely catching her scent spike. She looks at him, a look of surprise crossing her face from the intimacy of the action. He looks straight ahead, nodding to Dr. Holdo.

They exit the gates without much ceremony. No send off, no cursing at the very walls that separated them for so long. Ben and Rey file into her car with only the creaks and groans of her car hanging in the air.

Despite its appearance, she’s normally proud of her car, having scraped together enough money to buy it. But now with Ben stuffed in the passenger seat, she’s rethinking her choice in bringing it. 

She can see the First Order facility in her rearview mirror and Ben in her peripheral. She keeps adjusting the air conditioning, the radio, the side mirrors. She inhales to calm the nervous storm within her and nearly chokes on the thick scent of Alpha and Omega in her tiny car.

He shifts, his eyes focused out the window. She hears the window lower, just a crack, and he breathes in the fresh air.

“Why are you driving this,” he says, looking around. “Do you still have my car?”

_ Yes. _

Yes, his car, his  _ everything,  _ is still in her possession.

“It’s at home, but it hasn’t been sitting. I’ve made sure...well, I made arrangements,” she says, nearly choking between words on the breath she’s holding.

He nods once, looking at her face. She keeps her eyes on the road, but feels the weight of his presence as if he’s holding his side steady.

He reaches out, and she tries not to gasp as his fingers lightly brush against her knuckles, attempting to soften her grip.

She lets out a long sigh.

“Please don’t break the steering wheel,” he says, a hint of sarcasm. “I’m not sure we’ll make it home.” He smiles awkwardly at her, shifting again in the seat. He tugs at the seat belt to adjust it along his tall frame.

She twists her face in a half frown at his remark, releasing the uncomfortable grip on the wheel.

She glances back at him, catching his eye.

He shrugs, “I told you. I can feel it,” he says, “Also, your hands were turning various colors.”

She stretches her fingers and lightly taps.

“Well, if you can feel that then can I assume  _ you’re  _ feeling nervous and uncomfortable,” she quips in return. 

He’s leaning against the door, running his fingers over his mouth and chin.

“Just nervous.”

She traps her bottom lip between her teeth, scraping until it hurts.

“I haven’t used any of your things,” she blurts out. “I used the money for upkeep, and I used a little bit to help pay my rent one month, but I haven’t used your things.”

He sighs, quick and heavy.

“Okay.”

* * *

  
  


_ She feels an arm lightly drape over her shoulder as she approaches the table. She looks back and sees Poe. _

_ “Welcome, good newcomer, to the Campus Cantina,” he says, his other hand held high as if presenting her to a large crowd. _

_ Her shoulders tense, but she forces a smile, hoping to erase the uncomfortable feelings in her stomach. _

_ “Shut up, Poe,” Finn says, motioning for Rey to sit down. She does, carefully sliding towards Rose in the booth.  _

_ “Good lord, Rey. How many Alphas did you pass before getting to the table,” Rose says, scrunching up her nose. _

_ Rey rolls her eyes and laughs. _

_ “I tripped into a small pack up front, and one caught my arm,” she shrugs. _

_ “And then you let him scent you, and now you’re in love,” offers Poe, leaning towards her to take a whiff. _

_ They all laugh, except Finn who’s staring at Rey with a curious expression on his face. _

_ She lets her eyes go wide to get his attention and smiles as he seems to come back to the conversation. He huffs a laugh, sipping his drink and looking towards Poe. _

_ “Sorry, Rey,” Poe says, slouching into the bench next to Finn. “This is what happens when you disappear and forget your friends,” he takes a sip of his beer, “We have free reign to harass you.” _

_ “Yeah, yeah,” she shoots back, a nervous laugh escaping, “I’m sure you’ve never disappeared for no reason.” _

_ “Oh God, his ex,” Rose rolls her eyes, “Zorii.” _

_ “What,” Poe holds his hands up, defending himself, “Zorii’s awesome.” _

_ Rey and Rose laugh, catching each other’s eye. _

_ “Yeah, she is,” Rey says, “we were looking to trade up.” Rose chuckles, leaning into Rey. _

_ “Okay, then, Rey,” Poe stands up and points to her. “You don’t deserve it, but I did promise you a drink...although at this rate, bottom shelf only.” _

_ She actually smiles. The kind of smile she normally finds easily here with them.  _

_ “Well, jokes on you, I am a connoisseur of the bottom shelf,” she retorts back. _

_ “Alright, milady, the usual?” _

_ She nods. _

_ “Anyone else,” he scans the group, his finger pointed, stopping abruptly, “Oh, wait, nevermind. You’re all terrible.” _

_ She watches him push through the crowd towards the bar, catching the eye of someone along the way. She rolls her eyes and smiles at her friend, wondering how long it will take to get her drink. She’s feeling more relaxed since she walked in. It almost feels normal, despite the initial inquiry. _

_ “So. Rey.” _

_ She glances back at Finn and Rose, their eyes trained on her. _

_ Rose is smiling, a wide grin. Rey suspects that it's painful. _

_ “Anything...new,” Rose asks, batting her eyelashes and leaning in close. _

_ “No,” Rey blurts out. She thinks better of the tone of her response, softening her next words. “No,” she says lingering on the ‘n’. _

_ Rose makes a show of examining her from head to toe, leaning in close, moving back. Rey laughs, uncomfortable. _

_ “Well, you look like Rey. You sound like Rey.” _

_ “I drink like Rey,” she offers, playing along. _

_ “But, you don’t smell like Rey,” Rose says, with a girlish giggle, “why is that,  _ Rey _?” _

_ “Ugh, can we stop saying  _ Rey _ ,” she objects, elbowing Rose lightly. _

_ “For fuck’s sake, Rey, who is it?” _

_ She stares back at Rose, biting her tongue. She wants so badly to talk to someone about Dr. Solo.  _

_ Ben. _

_ She smiles back at her friend. _

_ “No one,” she says to the disappointed face of Rose, “yet.” _

_ She hears Rose squeal, but the rest of her words to Rey disappear as she catches Finn’s eyes. He’s watching their conversation, and he looks uneasy. _

* * *

  
  
  


“I made arrangements with your parents to help me take care of some things.”

Rey turns the key slowly to the front door of the home that she will now share with Ben, if Ben allows.

Legally, he doesn’t have a choice, but Rey wants more than a piece of paper. She’s desperate for Ben to let her inside. Forget the walls, she wants access to him.

She walks in ahead of him and feels like she’s an agent showing a client a home, not walking in with her mate. She looks around the open space, Ben following after her.

She’s still seeing it all with fresh eyes. She had only been here a few times before Ben was taken. Once it legally fell into her hands, she couldn’t bear to visit, begging his parents to aid her with the upkeep. 

“How often were they here,” he asks, touching a soft throw slung over the back of the couch.

“Um, not very often,” she says as she places her bags and keys on a table. “We hired a cleaner, which we can cancel...if you like. It was mainly to check in on things, had someone check the pipes in winter…,” she allows her voice to trail off. She follows his eyes, and watches him take in the details of his home. She wants to ask the normal things that people might ask after someone has been away for a long time. 

_ How does it feel to be home? _

_ What are you going to do first? _

_ Does it look the same? _

Those questions are hollow.

His scent is more bearable in the more open space, but it still approaches her in small waves. She nervously taps her hands on her hips, hoping to relieve the tension.

“It’s going to be overwhelming for a while,” he answers.

She looks up at him, shocked at the intrusion. She’s still not sure if the tie is suffocating or comforting. Their close proximity may very well consume her before the day is over if the bond mends itself so quickly. 

“We’ll agree to say  _ when, _ okay,” he says, turning back to her.

She furrows her brow and purses her lips. He’s watching her, waiting. 

She looks up and slowly nods.

He takes a water from the fridge, slowly screwing the cap open and taking a sip. She catches herself staring at his lips and turns away from him.

The house is older with obvious repairs and renovations done over the years. The original hardwoods gleam with a newer coat of polish. The built-in bookshelves are full of books Rey has read, maybe only heard about. It’s clean, immaculate really. The same as before he left.

She couldn’t bear to oversee anything here. It felt too lonely.

She’s not sure, but the current silence seems to leave a deeper well. 

“I think I’m going to go take a shower that’s not on a clock, in a bathroom that’s not being observed, and put on some clothes that don’t have my name written on them,” he says.

“Okay,” she says, thankful that he’s taken the burden of figuring out the next steps out of her hands.

He walks to the main bedroom door, pausing with his hand on the door.

“Where are my things?”

“They’re still here,” she says, defensive.

He sighs at her reaction, lifting a hand to dismiss her, but stopping himself. She sees him look at his hand, tensing and then forcing a breath out.

“It’s not an accusation, Rey,” he says, a hint of exasperation, “I just want to know that I have something to change into.”

_ Shit. _

She needs to stop being on edge. 

This is hard. It’s going to be hard for a while.

“Your things are still in the main bedroom,” she replies, presenting a calm, even tone. “I didn’t want to move anything until we made some decisions,” she offers. 

They have to discuss it at some point. The sooner, the better.

“About?”

“Sleeping arrangements,” she says, her voice a shy wisp of sound.

He’s sliding his jaw left to right. He looks back down the small hallway towards Rey, seeming to examine the open space.

“I’ll take the guest,” he says, turning to the door.

Her brow furrows, and she looks down, assessing his words.

“Oh,” she says, the meaning hitting her, “Okay, that’s...fine.”

She knows that it was too much to hope for, sharing a space so soon, but the disappointment still hits her hard. She knows that it’s not rejection, but it feels like it’s adjacent to it.

“No, wait,” she stops him, “There’s no way you’re going to fit in the guest bed.” She begins grabbing the bags that she brought with her this morning. She throws them over her shoulder, shuffling towards the guest bedroom under the weight. “I’ll move into the guest...for now.”

“For now?” 

He crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his chin down to look at her. She’s not sure he actually wants her to answer that question, to say what she really wants. 

“Yeah, for now…,” she says, her grip tightening on one of the straps. 

She tries to shrug, tries to seem casual under his careful eyes. She looks toward the main bedroom door, thinking of how to begin. How to bridge the gap.

“Rey-”

“Ben, we-”

They both look up. She shrugs and smiles, pointing out the awkwardness. He nods at her to go ahead.

“Ben,” she begins, slowly, “we don’t have to make any major decisions right now.” She smiles, trying to force a more upbeat, optimistic tone. “We have time.” She nods her head with increasing enthusiasm. Now that the words are leaving her mouth, she’s feeling more confident in letting them go. Like pulling the thread on a seam. 

Just get it started. 

Rey releases the bag on her shoulder, the strap sliding down her arm until the bag hits the floor. She rests her hand in the crook of his arm, running her thumb over the lines and crease in his skin. She looks up at his face to see his eyes cast down, watching her touch him. She can almost see the breath leave his lips, rocky. She drops her other bag, allowing her to move closer to him.

She dares to enter his realm, stepping into him, close to his chest. She catches his scent. It’s dampened by the miserable smell of the facility, but he’s still there underneath. She struggles to keep her eyes open while she inhales, and her breaths begin to match his.

She feels the slow lift of a smile, a small pool of relief in her abdomen.

“We have time, Ben,” she says, quietly. He exhales slowly as her hand moves up his arm. She bites her lip, stifling the mixture of excitement and, maybe tears, that are starting to rise up inside of her.

“Rey.” 

He breathes her name. She can feel the muscle beneath her fingers. He’s not looking at her, just examining the minute movements of her hand.

She admires her hands, comparing them to his tall frame. She lets her fingers trace the line of his arm, to his shoulder and down. She aims for his heart.

“Rey,” he gasps, catching her hand and clasping it to his chest. She can feel his heart pounding, and she responds with her scent spiking at how close…

“Please, Rey,” he whispers, his voice shaking, “Please don’t.”

She stills.

He lets go of her hand, backing up against the door. She feels a pitiful whine in the back of her throat, mourning the absence of the touch. He reaches back for the door handle, turning it and pushing inside.

Rey stands there, the door closing gently behind him.

Turning toward the guest bedroom, she drags her bags with much less energy than moments ago.

She lets a few tears fall as she sits on the bed.

She looks around at the walls, the bittersweet feelings of having him just across the hall filling up the space and pushing her further and further down.

* * *

  
  
  
  
  


_ “Rey.” _

_ Rey turns around, nearly a block away from the Cantina.  _

_ “Finn,” she smiles at her friend, “did I leave something?” _

_ His expression is concerned. She can see the wheels turning, the words ready to spill out from him. _

_ She stands there waiting for him to respond. His posture shifts. He looks up at her slowly, decidedly. _

_ “It’s Solo,” he says. _

_ She sucks in a small breath and shifts under his words, instantly regretting her loss of control.  _

_ No rehearsed response comes to mind.  _

_ Either way, Finn will know. _

_ Still, she tries to delay the inevitable. _

_ “What?” _

_ “The Alpha,” he steps towards her, “It’s Solo.” _

_ She feigns a laugh and rolls her eyes heavily.  _

_ “We’ve just been having coffee,” she interjects, lamely, “He’s just helping…” _

_ “Don’t, Rey,” he stops her, “I’m your friend. Don’t do that to me.” _

_ She swallows and looks down at her feet. She lifts her thumb to her mouth and begins chewing the nail. Finn sees and shakes his head, looking at the ground. _

_ “It’s Solo,” she replies, “but, it’s not what you think.” _

_ “Then what is it?” _

_ “I don’t know,” she shrugs, looking around, ashamed of the secrecy. _

_ “You’ve been seeing him, haven’t you?” _

_ Rey looks at her friend, seeing his eyes full of concern. She lifts her shoulders and sighs.  _

_ “Yes.” _

_ His head drops, closing his eyes before he looks back up.  _

_ “Rey, don’t do this. I don’t think he’s...right,” he says, his tone soft. _

_ “It’s not a big deal,” she replies, “we’re being careful.” _

  
  


_ He laughs and paces past her. He’s almost casual for a moment, in the way that he might mock her for liking string cheese or insisting on buying gas station coffee.  _

_ “Maybe I should be worried about that, but that’s not my biggest concern,” he says, turning back towards her. “I mean, yes, maybe you shouldn’t be jeopardizing your future by fucking a teacher...”  _

_ “He’s not even my teacher,” she defends, “Not really. And we’re adults. I’m not a teenager, Finn.” _

_ Finn looks at her, but she can’t look back.  _

_ She’s looking past him, down the street, wishing she were anywhere else, but here.  _

* * *

  
  
  
  
  


“Do you want me to scent you before you go to sleep?”

Ben appears in the doorway of the guest room dressed for bed. Her mouth hangs open at the sight of him.

The afternoon had passed without much interaction, neither of them digging any further into the previous conversation. They chose instead to ignore each other over pizza at the dining room table. Ben had excused himself early, much to the disappointment of Rey, who had to remind herself of how little privacy he had over the past months. He certainly deserved some space, even if his scent in the house left her skin tingling.

“What,” she says, her brow scrunched.

She’s not sure she’s ever seen him in proper bedtime attire. She had assumed he spent most nights naked or in boxer briefs, but she stares at the loose pants, a slight wear obvious in the fade of plaid.

“The days that I saw you,” he says, “I always slept better that night.” He leans against the door frame. “It might help you relax,” he offers, looking down at the floor before looking back up into her face. He pauses. “It’ll help me.”

She blinks.

“Okay.”

She stands as if inviting him to a grand tea, cringing at how awkward she’s making this. He lowers himself, sitting at the edge of the bed. She sits, turning to face him. 

Rey can see the room again with its tile of green, the fluorescent lighting, and the view of Ben, leaning down to nuzzle the inside of her wrists.

She feels the faint trickle of slick, and sees his nostrils flare.

“Sorry,” she says, furrowing her brow at her own reaction.

He shakes his head, freeing her from any guilt on  _ that  _ matter. Some things can’t be helped as he well knows.

Besides, he may very well need just a small taste of his Omega before…

_ “ _ Rey,” he says, “it’s a little loud when you do that.”

She sucks in a tiny bite of air at his statement.

“I thought,” she blinks a few times, “I thought that was just when it was anger or...”

“Any strong emotion,” he shrugs, “so far.”

She feels the anxiety creep into her chest.

He turns to face her, glancing around at the room. He’s eyeing her things, carefully placed on shelves, a stack of clothing on the chair by the door. He looks back at her.

“I could always try and scent you through the curtain or through a ridiculously small opening in the window,” he says, a wry smile on his face.

She snorts, his words quelling the tight hold in her chest. She decides to return the favor.

“Sure,” she says, waiting until he looks to read her face before offering him a smile.

He smiles back, and they allow the moment to dissipate.

“Here,” he says, offering his wrists.

She last touched him a week ago. 

The thought turns over in her mind as she feels the hairs on her arms rise. She’s looking down at the promise of those arms. More importantly, he’s not asking this same offering from her first. She looks up into the strong lines of his face. The tip of his nose leads down to the groove over his full mouth. She imagines leaving a kiss there as she watches the measured and careful breaths leaving his parted lips.

_ Alpha. _

The thought sends a current, and she can feel the wave of his scent unfolding.

She bows her head, kissing the scent glands on the inside of his wrists with a gentle peck. He shivers as her breath escapes her mouth, dusting over the vulnerable skin there.

She lets her eyes close in relief.

She takes hold of his wrists, waffling between lingering and devouring him. She’s pressed close enough to feel her eyelashes flutter across his skin.

Licking, she can hear the moan,  _ hers _ , as it escapes. His taste, his scent. It’s maddening how good it is, how good it's always been.

Rey risks a small tug of his arms. She allows her body to fold over them, rubbing her face along the inside. The slick trickles between her thighs. She feels the stutter of his breath, hitting her neck, a cool brush over her mating gland. She knows he can see it, the shiny bite from when he claimed her. She feels a hovering warmth, and her toes curl at the promise of his touch there, but it cools after a moment.

She feels a small retreat.

“I’m...I’m not done,” she says, a tentative warning.

“Okay,” he says. She waits for him to pull away, but he never does, patiently waiting for her to finish.

She releases his arms, allowing them to sit on his lap. She hesitates at the thought of their encounter from earlier, careful to avoid the path her fingers are begging to take up to his shoulders. She scoots closer, leaning in close to allow her wrists to rub against the gland on his neck. She wants to smear the slick from between her legs and mark him, but she thinks better of it. She gives herself permission to pretend she’s just not close enough to reach, leaning further.

She can hear the quiet groan that he’s clamping to keep hidden, and she can smell the effect that she’s having on him.

He turns his head slowly, using the tip of his long nose to guide her arm and her wrists to his mouth.

“Oh,” she says in surprise at his touch.

His participation feels generous.

He licks, inhales, and repeats. The feeling of his tongue flat over her skin leaves her to press her thighs together and reset her hips. She can feel the mattress dip as they inch closer to gain better access to each other.

Her wrists poised over his shoulders and fingertips lightly dusting the nape of his neck, she leans into him, inhaling his scent further. She feels his hands, warm and assuring drag slowly down to the small of her back, holding her closer to himself. The further she leans, the more his large frame envelops her small one. This tension, this string. She can only pull so long before it either snaps or unravels completely. 

She’s hoping for complete destruction.

She turns her head into the crook of his neck, his gland exposed and begging for attention. She feels the glee, the anticipation of consuming him like a meal. Her breathing picks up, and she licks across the patch of skin. 

Ben freezes and whines beneath her grasp, and she keeps pulling, her jaw shifting as she begins licking and sucking desperately.

A burst of earth and musk hits her tongue as the slick flows. He shifts, and she digs her fingers in harder, begging him to comply.

His fingers draw ten lines further down her back until he’s cupping her ass and drawing her higher and closer.

She moves to straddle him, begging for the feeling of grinding down, her core aching for it.

She reaches in to taste again, finding herself settling back on her heels, his grip tight on her wrists.

He’s standing in front of her, backing away from the bed.

She looks at him shaking her head.

_ No. _

_ No, no, no. _

She’s barely aware of her arms reaching out for him, kneeling on the bed.

He’s backing away, stumbling, and she feels her Omega screaming inside.

“Ben,” she says, forcing back tears. 

_ Alpha, please. _

He looks at her, his face softening, as if he knew that his feet wouldn’t get him very far.

“Ben, please,” she says, sitting back and lowering herself to the bed. She draws herself back onto the bed, assigning herself one pillow, giving him plenty of space on the other side.

He looks wrecked, raw. He swallows and walks back towards the bed, placing his head on the pillow next to her.

“Sure, Rey,” he says, bitter, resigned. He looks away.

She looks up at the ceiling and closes her eyes, a few tears breaking through. Her chest shakes, determined to keep from sobbing. She wants to scream and thrash at the unkindness of their situation. She’s tired of wanting and not having, of needing and not getting. She’s tired of feeling like it’s impossible. She wishes they had met him under different circumstances. Not Omega and Alpha. Just Rey and Ben. 

It’s not the first time that she’s cursed herself for being an Omega, for him being an Alpha. 

“I know,” he says, resting his hand over hers.

She squeezes her eyes shut, tears freely falling.

“How do you keep doing that,” she asks.

“I don’t know,” he says, his voice soft, maybe a little lost.

He turns to her, wrapping his arm over her waist and pulling her onto his side. She can feel him looking at her face, his gaze continuing to pass over her shoulders, her breasts. He rests his hand on her belly, a thin line of skin exposed between her shirt and sleep pants. Her heart is still heavy, but it feels like a moment of mercy.

Her spine curls, forcing his touch on her skin. 

Her breathing becomes labored at the thought of his hands exploring her, touching her hips.

He answers her again, no words, just the ghost of his pinky at her waist.

Rey gasps, so softly, but he hears. She shifts her hip points rolling back and forth. 

Once. 

Twice.

The second time's a charm. 

He allows his fingers to graze, drawing a line underneath the waistband of her pants. He finds her underwear and traces the tiny line of lace at the waist. His touch is unbelievably soft. She feels the slick and before she knows it, she’s bathed in the scent of his arousal, his need. She closes her eyes, relaxing into his warm palm.

She can hear his breathing, more labored as he sinks closer to her ear.

“Tell me, Rey. Is this still how you like it?”

Her eyes open in a flash, the words causing her to spine to twist in anticipation.

She tenses her thighs as he gently strokes her folds over the thin cotton of her underwear with his index finger.

He watches her face, the corner of his mouth turned up slightly.

He dusts a few light kisses near her temple, her cheek and then to her ear. The feel of his mouth makes her toes curl and causes her pussy to clench, a little thrill shooting to her lower back. 

He whispers, “You still like it like this?”

She rolls her lips closed, unsure of how to react. She feels the weight of his body on the bed, causing her to sink into his pull like quicksand.

Her body betrays any effort to hold back as she gently rolls her hips up to meet his touch. She catches herself and winces, his eyes still fixed on her face. He brushes his finger over the tender skin near the lace of her panties and she moans, her mouth closed.

“Oh, you do,” he says with a satisfied smile.

Her hips twist slightly on the mattress, begging for more attention, but he continues to tease her with featherlight touches. 

She finally turns to look at him.

She’s missed him.

It’s written everywhere in the deepest places of her mind and her heart. It’s a complex mixture of want and anguish. She tries to meet his eyes, hoping to create a space where she could fully accept this, a place for them both to live. The swirl of emotions unfold from her in waves. She sighs and falls prey to the movement between her thighs. 

Luckily, her body knows the response, even if everything else is a mess.

She misses him.

His touch. His voice. 

His teasing becomes stroking, and she shivers and jerks in response. He’s not inside, and her body already feels as if she could lift off of the bed.

He curls his finger underneath the soft elastic of her underwear, dragging the knuckle along the soft curls of hair. He watches her face as she gasps at the touch, finally, of skin on skin. 

He takes a finger and traces the lips up and over her clit and down the other side.

He smiles, and she feels herself fight back tears.

He’s dragging this out. 

His finger slides down and takes the same course around her opening. 

He raises an eyebrow and raises his chin, anticipating her reaction to the slide of his fingers through the slick in her folds.

She moans, low and long, and he smiles smugly, consuming her reaction.

Every gesture, every touch becomes a game. 

A tease of her clit. 

A circle to her entrance.

She can only feel, accept, and watch.

The torture is delicious and long. When her body needs more, it responds of its own accord, twisting and lifting to ask.

He responds, all the while, smiling and watching. 

As he works to stretch her, lightly pumping with two fingers, she feels her eyes close and her head relax further into the pillow. 

She wants to tell him to slow down, not too fast. She wants this to last forever.

She looks up, the smile gone, replaced by a sadness.

She lifts both hands, cupping his face.

“Ben,” a whisper. A small plea.

He drops his head and shakes himself gently from her hands. He stares down at his hand, watching as his fingers pump in long strokes. He moves to the waistband and begins sliding her underwear and sleep pants off. She lifts her hips to assist him.

He brushes her hair away from her face and continues to look into her eyes while he goes back to slowly working his fingers inside.

She sees the same war within Ben. The lust, the fear, this brief respite from the pain.

“I still remember the first time I touched you,” he whispers, punctuated by a soft groan.

She hiccups, her breath catching at his words.

“You were so perfect. You were so sweet. I just wanted you so badly. I didn’t care what it meant.”

Her hips dance on the mattress, his touch sending currents of pleasure through her body. She’s biting her lip, begging for more, for less.

“Then I kissed you, and I realized that I was lying to myself.”

And there it is, that little slip of a memory. 

Her eyes are drifting closed.

Her back against an office door, his tongue seeking permission. His lips, soft. Her body pliant beneath him.

Her hand fists into the collar of his shirt. 

She’s pulling his face close, his hand steadily thrusting inside, her core tightening and winding towards a peak.

“Fuck, Rey. You still feel…,” his voice breaks. His nose lingers near her gland, inhaling. She whines, angling her herself to allow him to taste. “I was lying. I cared about so many things,” he says, his voice low, “but it meant nothing...just wanted to keep you.”

A small dam bursts in her heart.

Maybe there was forgiveness.

To hell with the hurt. To hell with the complicated details. Let them fade, let them disappear.

Let them have this.

He takes her hand and guides it down to her clit, allowing her to touch herself along with his thrusting fingers. She cries, shifting her body to be able to manage the added attention. Her heels dig into the mattress, her hips lifting more, begging.

“Rey, look at me.”

She turns her head and opens her eyes. She licks her lips watching his eyes flicker to her mouth. She bites her lip. She feels wanton, her body jerking beneath him. 

She smiles.

“Yes, Alpha,” she says, sighing.

“Ben. Say my name.” A growl.

She looks into his face, her eyes wide at his response. She nods.

“Yes, Ben..oh..yes. Ben,” her words broken, the twisting and turning of her impending orgasm beginning to bloom.

“Rey, I want you to look at me and tell me what you want.” He’s adding another finger, then a third. She cries out from the stretch.

_ So close, so close, so close. _

_ Please. _

“Rey, you don’t have to beg, just look at me and tell me,” he says. His voice has an edge to it.

She begins to rub her clit with more pressure, tighter circles. His fingers thrust harder. He holds her there on a thin string, suspending her before the fall.

She closes her eyes tight and swallows before looking up into his face.

“Ben. I want you to make me come.”

He presses his lips together along with the effort of pumping, curling, pushing her forward.

She climbs higher and higher until she feels like she will be flung into the air. 

She can’t help the words that escape and bubble out.

“Alpha,” she says, “I want your knot.  _ Please. _ Give your Omega your knot.”

He winces, squeezing his eyes shut, pumping faster.

She’s babbling.

“Call me your Omega,” she says, ignorant of his hesitation, “I’m your Omega.”

She’s whining, the pitch soaring higher.

_ Please. _

He takes in a breath and leans down close to her gland. Her breath hitches as his lips brush the skin there.

_ Please. _

So close.

_ Please. _

He whispers,

“Omega.”

Her vision becomes a mix of paisley and flashes of white light.

She comes for him with a long shout and a gush of slick.

She’s lightheaded, crying and whining his name.

She’s drifting back down, his fingers slowly pumping, removing them one by one. Her eyelids float open and shut. She’s sure she hears him whisper.

_ I missed you. _

She smiles and rolls toward his long, warm frame draped next to her. Her hand still twisted in his shirt, she lets her slick coated fingers of her other hand trace his pectoral muscles and drift down to brush against his hard cock.

He groans and his body stiffens. She beams at this reaction and continues to grasp him, feeling the slight swell of his knot. She strokes him, memorizing the outline of him through his sleep pants.

“I need this,” she smiles up at him. “I need it, Alpha.” She pulls herself to him, pressing her body to every point.

She rolls her hips into him, searching.

He doesn’t answer as she continues to rub against him.

He grabs her shoulders and promptly pulls her loose. He clumsily moves from the bed to stand and stares at the bedding, wiping his slick coated hand on his shirt.

“I can’t.”

She bolts up to protest.

“I’m sorry, Rey,” he raises his hands to pause her. “I just can’t.”

Her mouth drops open. Before she can beg him to come back to bed, he’s out the bedroom door. She sits, stunned into silence.

She hears the ceiling fan above her. She hears the bathroom door open, the sink running. She sits there and listens as he runs through his bedtime routine before she hears his bedroom door close.

She barely wipes her hands on her sheets before laying her head on the pillow.

She turns her nose towards the fabric, drinking in his scent and falling asleep.

* * *

  
  
  


_ Rey walks down the near empty street with Finn trailing behind. Her arms are folded over her chest, her jaw tense. _

_ He attempts to grab her hand, holding her in place. _

_ “Rey, listen.” _

_ “Stop grabbing my hand.” _

_ “Rey, I don’t think you’re going to find what you’re looking for with him.” _

_ She stops and turns to face him, her nostrils flaring at the cut of his words. They haven’t known each other long, but Finn and Rey had an immediate connection. He was good, honorable, and kind. He knew more than most about Rey’s struggle to find her place, her hopes for a family, friends. She longs to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he’s making it difficult as he attempts to tear down this small, fragile dream of Ben. _

_ She looks down at the cracks zigzagging in the concrete. She places her hands on her hips, looking up into Finn’s concerned face. _

_ “I know that it’s complicated,” she begins, “I mean, he is a professor, I’m a grad student.” She looks off to the side. She looks back at him, wrapping the illusion of a calm demeanor around herself. “I know he’s difficult, moody, and maybe has some different ideas…” _

_ “Rey, he’s a demi-human, Alpha rights fanatic.” _

_ She stands there, scoffing at his concern. _

_ “No, he’s not.”  _

_ “You don’t know anything about him, Rey. Not really.” _

_ Her brow furrows. She can feel a wash of anger. _

_ “Neither do you, Finn,” she says, “No one knows him, not like I do.” _

_ The lie hangs in the air between them.  _

_ Yes, she knows Ben in ways that few people do, but she’s not privy to much else. She possesses a few scraps here and there, words and anecdotes spoken between furious interactions of pleasure. She’s always desperate for more of him, but the secret, hidden moments only lead to much of the same. _

_ “Rey,” Finn walks toward her, his tone serious, “he’s First Order.” _

_ “Used to be,” she says, “Not anymore.” _

_ Finn’s placing his hand on her shoulder, waiting to catch her, waiting to comfort her. _

_ “They’re always First Order.” _

* * *

  
  


She wakes up an hour later with her face buried in the pillow. She sits up running her tongue over her teeth, realizing that she never prepared for bed.

Her pajama bottoms and underwear are still pushed down at the end of the bed. She retrieves them and heads to the bathroom to wash away the dried slick from between her legs. Thankfully, she’s too sleepy to dwell on it, but her heart aches at the thought of Ben’s quick retreat. She sees the glow of the lamp underneath his bedroom door as she tiptoes past.

She pauses when she hears the gentle, rhythmic slap and small, quick breaths.

She freezes, desperate not to call any attention to her presence. She knows if she steps into the bathroom, it may disturb him. She attempts to change course back to her room when his heavenly, Alpha scent crashes over her like it's seeping through the paint on the walls. She covers her mouth to stop a low groan. 

Her eyes fly open at the sound of a grunt, and she has to assure herself that she’s not the source.

She holds her face, squeezing painfully to stifle the desire and distress.

She looks at her bedroom door and creeps closer, assessing the creaks in the wood floors. She’s nearly free when she hears his voice. 

“Rey.”

She catches herself, gripping the frame of her bedroom door.

“Rey.  _ My _ Rey.”

She feels her body come alive at the sound of her name, spoken in the heat of passion by him. Her Alpha. She finds herself listening to him touch himself, imagining how he looks with his hand fisting his hard cock. His long body, sculpted and beautiful amidst a nest of pillows and blankets.

She hears him speed up, his scent changes and she can tell that he’s so close.

“My mate. My Omega,” he whines, going faster.

She tries to back away before her scent spikes, falling to her knees.

“Take it. Take your Alpha’s knot,” he spits out through gritted teeth and groans, long and low as he comes.

She freezes as she listens to the postlude of his orgasm. The catch up of breath. The shifting on the mattress. The additional whispers and moans.

Her eyes drift closed, her heartbeat slowing with the rustle of sheets. She hears footsteps, and she crawls into her space, slowly closing the door behind her.

Somewhere between the hum of the house and the silence, Rey falls asleep filled with more confusion and longing.

And deep, buried inside...something less familiar.

Hope.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurting people hurt people.
> 
> I repeat this often as I'm writing this fic. I kept reading tropes that I love and the impossible kept working out over and over again, as it should. But, I found myself putting those fics away to revisit them later.
> 
> I love fluff. I like to read it, write it, but sometimes when things are difficult, I need the comfort of seeing two people at their lowest come through.
> 
> The first few chapters are Rey and Ben at their lowest. How does that even happen? How do they rebuild?
> 
> Hurting people hurt each other, even if it’s a love story.
> 
> And this is a love story.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Tags updated for trigger warning/spoilers. There are brief notes at the end of the chapter in regard to CW/TW, please visit those first before reading, if necessary :)

  
  
  


The house is quiet when Rey wakes the next morning with the exception of the buzz of appliances and the quiet chirping of life outside. It’s entirely unfamiliar. She keeps expecting to hear the neighbors stomping above her, slamming doors, and yelling over the television. She rolls over on her side, curling into the comforter and pillows. There are a few things from her place, but she’ll need to make sure she has more to make the room more comfortable, especially before her next heat. 

The thought leaves her shuddering.

It wasn’t uncommon to receive medical assistance in suppressing heats. It had become more common under the Omega Protection Act. Of course, they had been more understanding due to the nature of Ben and Rey’s situation. They had offered or threatened to completely suppress Ben’s Alpha with an experimental injection, but Rey couldn’t stomach the thought. She had her concerns about the bond, but the fear of the empty void without their connection was more palpable. Rey had been referred to a demi specialist, Dr. Amilyn Holdo, who assessed Rey and ultimately recommended a treatment program for her. One that ultimately benefited Ben as well. It was Dr. Holdo who had pushed for frequent visitations, medicine to help maintain and offer relief, and regular therapy sessions for Rey. It had worked better than Rey was willing to admit at first. She’d only had one breakthrough heat during his absence. 

It was 12 hours of pure hell. 

Mated pairs can experience intense emotional and physical damage if separated while the Omega goes into heat. She had to be put on emergency blockers to help her ride out the symptoms.

Her eyes close tighter as she burrows further into the pillow that still carries his scent from the night before. Her foot slips out from underneath the comforter searching for a splash of cool air.

They’ve barely managed a thought spared for sleeping arrangements, let alone a conversation about how they would manage a heat and rut together. For now, Ben is still on suppressants. Once he goes off of them…

Her thighs press and twist under the sheets. God help her when that day comes.  _ If _ that day comes.

It’s all too soon now.

_ The soft panting, the light from under the door, the whisper of Omega on his lips. _

His scent had been unreal, his words a revelation.

Maybe too soon now, but maybe soon enough.

Last night she had struggled to give much thought to Ben’s nighttime activities, but here in the quiet of the room without the threat of being caught in the hallway, she can more clearly follow the trail her mind wishes to wander.

He had clearly been affected by their connection and scenting. Maybe he eventually gave in, maybe he waited in the hopes that she would be asleep. It didn’t matter. Standing on the cold hardwood floor, she had initially felt the shock and hurt of his dismissal, but now it felt more like triumph. Ben was exercising a bit of self-preservation, a move with which Rey was familiar. She had been doing it most of her life. If he needed to touch her and then wait to take his pleasure later, fine. Let him.

He wasn’t alone in that room. He was surrounded by the memory of her voice, body, and scent.

_ Rey. Omega.  _

His whispers had been desperate and beautiful. She would willingly let it play over and over.

The latch and thud of Ben’s door breaks the stillness of the house, and she hears his heavy steps making their way to the bathroom. The water runs in the sink, and she moves from the safety of the bed to quietly pad towards the kitchen for coffee. She hunts around the space, forgetting that were this her apartment, the timer would have been set the night before to insure that she would awaken to the smell of liquid saving grace.

She tiptoes around, quietly opening and shutting cabinets and drawers. She nearly jumps at the sound of Ben clearing his throat behind her.

She turns to look at him, standing in the same apparel from last night.

“Morning,” he says.

She stands, stretching her toes and twisting her hands.

“Morning,” she says, with a quick, shy wave.

“Coffee,” he asks, moving to the pantry and pulling out a small canister.

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure,” she begins as he shakes the canister, finding it empty.

He reaches further back into the cabinet and searches for a bag, checking the outside.

“Your Mom,” she says, attempting to answer the unasked question.

“She ordered some things to be delivered,” she says, sheepishly, “It should be good.”

He nods, a pained expression on his face.

“Ben,” she says, “last night…”

He stops her, “Just...not now, Rey,”

She sighs and looks down at the floors, tracing the grains of wood until they arrive at his feet. 

He gestures toward her. “At least...not before coffee, okay,” he asks.

She looks up at him as he offers her a small smile. It’s likely coffee won’t even bring about that conversation.

“Fair enough.”

She opens the refrigerator viewing the full shelves. She’s not used to seeing so much food. She wonders how much food Ben’s mother believes that they’re capable of eating, but then it occurs to her that this is what it’s like to have a week’s worth of groceries in your fridge. The shelves are full of proteins, vegetables, and fruits for them to consume. 

She opens the drawers and eyes a few tightly wrapped packages full of cheese and charcuterie. It seems almost indulgent and obscene to have this much for two people, but then she thinks of her own fridge full of takeout, wilted iceberg, and containers of applesauce. This is what it means to eat like an adult.

“See any eggs,” he asks, “I can scramble some.”

She looks at the top shelf and spots them. She hands it to him.

“Butter?”

She turns back, grabbing the small, glass container.

“Can I help,” she asks.

Ben turns back to her, finishing with the coffee maker. She stands, begging her knees not to bounce with a fraction of excitement at being included in his morning.

He looks at her knees and takes his eyes up before landing on her face and looking towards his work on the counter.

He smiles, and she takes a picture of his face in her mind. The pained expression she had become so used to, the harsh light on his pale skin through the plexiglass, now easier, more fair and healthy.

He breaks away, not allowing her to linger too long, “Wanna hunt for some bread?”

She nods.

“Oh, I think I saw some bacon, too.”

He throws his head back and lets out a dramatic sigh.

“Oh God, yes,  _ bacon _ ,” he says, “Please.” She chuckles under her breath, participating in the unusual burst of comedy from this serious Alpha. Perhaps they could have bacon for every meal.

She hurries and grabs the requested items as he turns he ignites the gas stovetop. He moves around the kitchen as if he never left. He finds things with ease, and seems comfortable in the space. She stands back, buttering a few slices of bread before placing them on a baking sheet.

He looks back at her work and opens a cabinet, pointing inside.

“Next time,” he says, shrugging. She sees a toaster on the shelf below.

“Oh,” she says, “Well, who hides their toaster anyway.”

She smirks back at him.

“It may...or may not surprise you to know that I tend to go for order,” he says, “even in my kitchen.”

* * *

  
  


_ “What’s one thing that surprised you about me,” she asks. Her back is pressed into his strong chest, his arms wrapped around her protectively.  _

_ Rey’s never felt so safe. _

_ “You taste even better than you smell,” he says, licking her ear playfully. _

_ She giggles, letting him place a few small kisses along her neck. She feels the smile spread across his mouth as he buries his face into her gland. Her toes curl at the attention. She never imagined letting someone so close. _

_ They’re naked. In his house. In his bed. _

_ It feels so strange. No sneaking. No hiding. _

_ There’s a soft light coming through the window, slowly revealing the fine details of the room to her for the first time. _

_ “No, really,” she says, softly elbowing him. _

_ Ben kisses her hair, leaning close to her ear. _

_ He sighs, sending a shiver down her spine, and she squirms in his grasp. He walks his fingers to her side making her jerk a little more, releasing an exaggerated breath over her neck. _

_ “That’s it, huh,” she laughs, “That I’m ticklish.” _

_ His grip becomes tighter, holding her still. He takes his hand and smooths the thin sheet over her hips. _

_ His breath is soothing, warm, present. _

_ He’s trying to calm her. _

_ “Hm,” he says, pretending to think. _

_ He leans down again, lowering his voice, “When you’re trying to come, you furrow your brow.” _

_ As if on command, she scrunches her face. It’s not the answer she expected. She turns her head and glances back at his face. He’s smirking. _

_ “What,” she asks, intrigued at his meaning. _

_ He reaches under the sheet and trails his hand down her belly finding the center of nerves in between her thighs.  _

_ His finger dips just enough between her folds, seeking the warm slick before wandering back up to her clit rubbing back and forth. _

_ He holds her tighter when she nearly leaps from the circle of his hold. _

_ “When you want to come, you look like you’re concentrating.” Her lips part, and she sucks in a small breath. “It’s the same looks you’ve had on your face in lecture, when you’re doing your work, attempting to order a coffee, and now I’ll never be able to stop thinking about it.” He rests a hand on her breast, lightly toying with her nipple. “I’ll never not see you this way.” He takes her earlobe between his teeth, licking and nipping. The fine hairs on her skin raise and dance in response, and she gasps. “Furrowing your brow as I drink your slick, fuck you, and make you cry for me.” _

_ She lets out a moan as he continues to rouse her from the refuge of his bed. _

* * *

  
  


Breakfast had continued in silence, despite the early exchanges, but Rey wasn’t going to allow herself to be discouraged.

She had caught him a few times, sparing glances at her here and there. She tried to ignore it, but his scent drew her to him. It told her the story of an Alpha, curious and enchanted by the small movements of her arms, the twist of her hips. She wasn’t one to play games, but she was ready for some confirmation of his interest. A quick press and scratch to her mating gland, and he had left the room, promising to return to help her with the remaining items.

As Rey scrubs her body down under the bliss of a hot shower, she’s smiling.

It’s a real smile.

It’s the lightest that she’s felt in a long time.

Her mind returns to the soft sounds of his voice pleading for her in the dark. The way his scent bloomed as he said her name. 

Sure, he wasn’t knotting her over scrambled eggs, but there was an ease, a friendliness to the few words exchanged. A far cry from the distant tone he so easily maintained on their visits.

Pulling her comb through the wet tangles, she stares at her reflection thinking through the next steps.

They’re mated, united physically. Their scents, their bodies will always call out for the other. 

If they’re going to come to an agreement, Rey knows that she will likely have to take the first steps. 

It’s not as if she hasn’t tried in the past, but she’s never been good at having that burden. She’s survived with very little. Very little love, very little connection. It was often easier to be alone, surviving until things appeared in her path. 

She was lovingly collecting those things along the way. It didn’t occur to her to stray and search for the things she most desired.

For a young Rey, friendships were few and sometimes fleeting. She was moved often between different homes until she could be placed in a more permanent situation.

When she met Finn, he came along with Rose, and even Poe.

They took her into their lives and she collected their kindness, affection, and the belonging it brought. They made every effort to make her one of their family, but sometimes she struggled with their shared history and inside jokes. It was a reminder that she may never truly belong.

And this is what it so often amounted to.

When it came to Ben, he was hers and hers alone. He was her secret treasure. 

She desired him and all of the many things he represented.

She guarded the treasure. She kept it hidden lest the pieces slip away.

Maybe even holding on too tight.

Every encounter was stored away in a pocket, every kiss memorized, every word swallowed until the pieces were part of her very being.

Rey touches her neck, rubbing the pearly, crescent scar.

Her relationship with her mating bite is as complicated as most of her relationship with Ben. It often seems like it is its own entity, not one with her life with Ben.

Something once so complex, just another treasure.

* * *

  
  
  
_ “He called me an Omega bitch.” _

_ She toys with the fabric of her jeans, flicking the seam with her nail. The sound and feel is almost comforting. _

_ Maybe not comforting. _

_ It’s a distraction. _

_ Dr. Holdo waits with her hands in her lap, her eyes soft. She’s unfailingly patient with Rey.  _

_ She often waits for her therapist to become annoyed with her and refer her elsewhere, but Amilyn has assured her that it’s all about reframing her thinking. _

_ The foundation of her life was built poorly, but Ben tore it down.  _

_ Meeting him, wanting him, being claimed by him.  _

_ He was the light, shining on the shoddy patches, the water smoothing the rough edges. _

_ He made a way for her to rebuild. He offered her something that she needed. _

_ A home, stability. _

_ Love. _

_ And she couldn’t trust it. She couldn’t accept it. _

_ It was easier to believe the voice in her head. _

_ It was easier, harder, more devastating. _

_ “He said he was glad that I had presented so early,” she bites her lower lip. “It was time that I paid him back for his years of service. That I would be easy to put off to the highest bidder. Some Alpha ready to breed me and own me.” _

_ She runs through the details like reading off the ingredients of an organic frozen burrito. It’s easier that way. A way to make the words leave her mouth. It’s something that she’s practiced at this point. _

_ It’s not as if she’s never talked about this before with someone. Finn knows. Not every detail, but he knows about the neglect that she suffered in Plutt’s home.  _

_ But no one really knows the deep seated fear that she carries as an Omega. _

_ Plutt was a plague. _

_ It didn’t occur to her until she was in the seventh grade that maybe working in his shop at all hours was a problematic existence for a young child. When her teacher found her sleeping frequently through her lessons, someone was sent to investigate. He had received a call at the shop, and an appointment was set. They could expect a visit within the week. _

_ Scrambling to make the home the appearance of a child-friendly haven, Rey’s room became a thing of beauty.  _

_ A new bed, a dresser. _

_ Fresh sheets. _

_ A few pictures of flowers, a pile of kittens nestled in a woven basket. She didn’t particularly like the photographs, but it was more hers than the yellowing walls, scuffs, and unpatched holes. _

_ She even had room to display a few trinkets and items that she had made in the shop. _

_ They were the picture of a successful foster family. Plutt with an auto repair shop, no illegal activity in sight. His foster daughter, Rey, who couldn’t keep herself out of the shop with her creativity and busy mind.  _

_ It was all a show that Rey wanted no part of, even with her clean, pale, blue bed sheets. It wasn’t until she saw the real fear in Plutt’s eyes, the uneasy way in which he shifted on his feet in the presence of the counselor that she saw the real power she could hold over this grim creature. _

_ She watched him as he relied on Rey to talk more about their routine as a family, meals they had, trips they had taken. He was trapped. He would always have to rely on her to keep him in their good graces. _

_ She became bolder in her demands for privacy, time to complete her school work, and even time off on weekends. She almost became a normal kid. _

_ Then her body betrayed her, and she presented as Omega. _

_ She could have hid it from Plutt until she left his home for good if one of his men, an Alpha, hadn’t wandered into the shop on the day before her first heat. _

_ Tucked behind the counter, hand pressed into her lower abdomen to hold off the stabbing pains, Rey looked up to see a feral-eyed man staring down at her crouched form. _

_ She had hardly been able to help the words that had escaped. _

_ Help me. _

_ It was one of the few good things that Plutt had managed to do, swooping down and decking his man, before he could manage another step. _

_ Days later, sitting in the kitchen and feeling the relief of cool water on her throat, she sees Plutt eyeing her from his spot at the kitchen table. _

_ “Just an Omega bitch,” he had muttered with a smirk. _

_ He had at least managed to get her to a doctor in order to have her suppressants prescribed, but now he looked at her with a glow in his eyes. Like she was a perfect tool to be used. _

_ The safety net that had been created would vanish if she couldn’t get out of there by the time she turned eighteen. _

_ If there was money to be made, Plutt would sell her to the highest bidder. She wasn’t really sure what that entailed, but she knew her future had the potential to be devastating. _

_ “Rey.” _

_ Rey blinks and lets the pending tears flow. _

_ She looks up to see Dr. Holdo watching her process the thoughts fighting for room in her mind. _

_ She wipes the wetness from her check, smearing them nervously on her jeans. _

_ “Rey,” she says, pausing to lean forward, “how does his treatment of you, of your designation, how does that relate to your relationship to Ben?” _

_ Her head swims, trying to pull pieces and thoughts, words and whispers together to form a coherent sentence. _

_ It doesn't. _

_ Ben is Ben. _

_ Ben is good. _

_ Kind. _

_ Patient. _

_ Her mate. _

_ More than that. _

_ She hates these questions. At first it feels like the swipe of a new wound when she asks something particularly pertinent. She knows that her doctor is asking for more, and the request always stings with fresh blood appearing. _

_ “Let me ask you another way, Rey,” she says, crossing her legs and leaning back. The gesture immediately soothes her, puts her at ease to let her know that this is all in her time. _

_ “How did you feel when Ben mated you?” _

_ No, she really hates this question, because she’s never been able to answer it. _

_ “It was...” _

_ How could she describe it? _

_ Surreal. _

_ Wonderful. _

_ It had felt like falling and catching each other.  _

_ Knowing. _

_ “I felt…,” she lingers, but dares to say the word that keeps dancing around her head every time she considers it.  _

_ Home. _

_ Maybe now she’s ready to say it. _

_ “Being claimed by Ben had felt like coming home.”  _

_ She nods, agreeing with her own words. _

_ “Like I had finally walked through the doors of my home for the first time, and I could recognize that I was safe and wanted.” _

_ “Did you feel coerced, frightened into it?” Dr. Holdo is careful, leading Rey, like holding out a hand to an animal. Letting her come to her own conclusions. _

_ “No.” _

_ “How did you feel when your old guardian suggested selling you to the highest bidder?” _

_ Rey shakes her head, wishing away the feeling, the reaction. _

_ “Terrified, unsure, angry.” _

_ “What’s the difference, Rey?” _

_ She’s looking down at the floors, her hands in her lap, and the streaks of teardrops that have fallen on her shirt. _

_ The difference. _

_ The idea of being taken by an Alpha was always a horror movie playing over and over in her mind. _

_ When Ben had claimed her, full of his knot and come, Rey had felt the bite with exquisite detail. She could still hear the panting and groans of pleasure from them both. She could feel their slick and sweaty bodies pushed together, holding on. _

_ Mine. _

_ Ben had said it over and over. _

_ It wasn’t a threat. It was a vow. A promise. _

_ Alpha will provide. _

_ Ben will love. _

_ Something cracks. _

_ She sobs into her hands, hiding her face away from Dr. Holdo’s eyes. She doesn't know how to have a home, how to feel safe with someone. _

_ Ben’s history wasn’t her problem, it was her past weighing them down. All it took was one suggestion, one hint of his involvement with the First Order, and Rey had run from him. Her mating scar no longer cherished, now a blemish. _

_ Dr. Holdo begins to disappear in front of her as the tears cloud her vision, a blurry bubble of her self-loathing.  _

_ She takes a tissue from the table in front of her with little care of how she looks. _

_ She manages to cry through a small smile, the regret and relief flowing freely. _

_ “There’s a big difference,” she says. _

_ It’s all she can manage for now. It’s honest, even if it’s not the whole story. _

_ The whole story will take time to be told. _

_ Because now a moment clouded in shame has a new life. She can see him there holding her, caressing her hair. The heat had nearly run its course. At times frantic and desperate, it was a moment of clarity.  _

_ His pupils are large and dark with a halo of honey.  _

_ And there in the midst of their joined bodies, Rey’s cries of bliss. _

_ And a little voice whispering in his ear begging to be made whole. _

_ “Bite me, Alpha. Please.” _

* * *

  
  
  
  
  


Rey startles at the sound of gentle tapping on the guest bedroom door. Ben stands on the other side, his hands in his pockets.

Like he’s approaching the door of a stranger.

She’d find it adorable if it wasn’t so sad.

It’s hard to tell with what little exposure they’ve had to each other over the last year, but he’s definitely changed. So much of the past few months have been focused on her recovery, she hadn’t considered that he would need as much. The cool and quick demeanor from before his absence is now packaged into a beige, palatable Alpha that the world won’t fear or question.

But, what was there to fear before? He was known to be difficult to students and colleagues alike. 

_ He _ would say ambitious. 

He had a temper. He wouldn’t deny that, but he had told her once that she had made him more aware of it. He had a complicated childhood, but he didn’t hide it from her.

For the most part, anyway.

“Hey,” he says, interrupting the long stare she’s giving him.

“Hey.”

Like two awkward teenagers.

He removes his hands from his pockets. Her scent is probably going to overwhelm him where he stands, but she watches him deeply inhaling.

She smiles at him, refraining from letting it become a satisfied grin.

He’s taking in her essence, and if his eyes say anything, he’s relishing it. He clears his throat, rubbing his hands over his dark denim.

“I wanted to watch a movie, but I wasn’t sure if you had any plans to be in that room this evening,” he says, motioning behind him.

“Oh, uh, not really,” she says, unsure of what she was expecting him to say.

His lips press into a thin line. He seems a bit unsure as well. 

“Do you want to join me,” he asks.

_ Yes. _

The air leaves her mouth, a small breath of surprise.

“Yes,” she says, trying for the most casual smile she can manage. “That would be great.”

Ben lets Rey choose, his only request being that she pick something on the comedic side. She lifts an eyebrow knowing how often he’s mentioned his love for documentaries, but she imagines that a year of being held against your will would easily dampen your love for anyone else’s grim reality.

She suggests Italian. He counters with Chinese. 

She suggests some Beta comedy _.  _ He picks the sequel, because he has a death wish.

Rey doesn’t hesitate in telling him that he has terrible taste. He shrugs. He’s never seen either movie. He just thought maybe he’d pretend to have a preference.

She howls at his admission, doubled over with her hands pressed to her stomach. He chuckles, his face flushing at her reaction. She bites her lip, a silent apology on her face.

It’s like opening the windows after the heat has been trapped inside for too long. She feels the tears welling up at the tight coil in her stomach that always seems to be there, finally loosening in his presence.

She wasn’t sure it was possible for them to laugh again.

She wants the moment to linger forever. She wants the hum of energy and scent to keep moving through them like before.

She’s staring at him as he looks around the room. He’s avoiding looking back at her, but she refuses to back down from this feeling.

He breaks the thread of silence, “Do you want anything to drink?”

Her smile fades as he abruptly rises from his seat and makes his way to the kitchen, rummaging through cabinets.

“Sure,” she says.

It’s been less than forty-eight hours together. She has to demonstrate some patience. Rey can do that. 

She can.

But, she’s nervous, and when she’s nervous in the presence of her mate, she wants to be soothed. Caressed. Scented. Marked.

And that is a path that can only lead to...

“Water, or…,” he says, staring at the open refrigerator and the many choices. If it were anyone else, she would say that the interruption to her train of thoughts was an accident.

She taps her foot ready for him to settle closer.

It would be appropriate to go and stand next to him. Helpful too. 

She can’t actually visualize what’s in the fridge right now anyway.

“Water is fine for now,” she says, stroking the fabric of the couch to distract her from the laughable sexual tension happening between her and the kitchen.

She should just get up and go in there. 

Can he hear her hands tapping and fidgeting about?

She looks back over to his large frame as he nearly towers over the refrigerator. He’s frowning at a silver can with bits of red writing.

He shakes his head as if at a loss, “Or an unsweetened strawberry Fresca.”

“Yeah, that’s fine, too.”

He walks back to the coffee table, drinks in hand. Rey reaches forward, and thanks him. He rewards her with a smile.

It’s not quite the knowing smirk that she remembers from their first few encounters. It’s not new. She’s seen it as he traces the lines of her body with his fingers in the early hours of the morning. There’s a fondness there behind the light in his eyes and the wide grin spreading from ear to ear.

He clears his throat, and reaches for the remote control, turning away to focus on the television.

The entire evening begins to feel like a series of wins and losses.

Win. Ben plops himself down on the couch within reach.

Loss. He moves himself to the far end once the takeout arrives.

Win. She offers him some of her blanket, which he accepts.

Loss. He eventually grabs his own, once again furthering the gap.

Win. He teases her about her appetite.

Loss. They hate the movie, although they still manage to make fun of it. Maybe it’s a win.

Win. His gaze lingers over her face as she laughs, licking sauce from her fingers. She takes her time, sucking slowly.

Win. His attention doesn’t falter, his eyes falling over her body. Rey’s breath quickens.

Win. His scent spikes. She bites her lip.

Win. The movie ends, and Ben sits, not making a move to go.

Win. The house is quiet and dark save the light of the credits rolling.

Loss. They sit too long, neither of them willing to speak first.

* * *

  
  


_ “I can handle a random fling, if you can,” she says, nervously tapping her fingers on the door handle. She stands, with her hand resting, poised to leave at any moment that this conversation goes south. _

_ He looks at her from his desk all at once hungry and then something that she imagines for a moment resembling hurt. _

_ He places the few papers he was holding down and rests his hands flat on the desk. _

_ “Is that what you want,” he asks, careful in his response. _

_ She was trying to sound casual, trying to give them an out in case she’d been reading this whole situation incorrectly. She hadn’t actually expected him to turn it back on her. _

_ She stares at him as she slowly tightens her grip on the handle, hoping for something to balance the tension in her stomach. _

_ He’s glancing over her body, catching the way she shifts her feet. _

_ She’s fantasized about this moment.  _

_ She’d saunter into his office wearing something alluring, shutting the door behind her, and offering herself to him. He’d take her, no questions and no words needed. He’d bend her over his desk and press into her, filling her up. _

_ “What do you want, Rey,” he asks. _

_ She takes a breath, steadying herself before diving in. She may only have minutes to be held, to be wanted, and fucked. She pushes herself away from the door, walking slowly towards him. She figures she has one shot to make this fantasy a reality. The words feel silly in her head, but she turns them over, remembering how easy it became to say it as she walked towards his door.  _

_ She stops in front of him, watching him turn in his chair. His large, muscular thighs are spread open to her as she steps in, looking down into his face. She’s fighting to stop her fingers from shaking as she reaches down to his shoulder and lets her fingers fall down his chest. His hands rest at her hips, and she’s grateful for the assistance in standing. _

_ Looking into his eyes, she’s hoping to savor his reaction as she lets the words leave her mouth. _

_ “You, Alpha,” she says with a smile, “I want your knot.” _

_ She feels his fingers dig into the fabric, pushing into her skin. His breathing is uneven, and Rey feels elated at his response. _

_ Until he gently pushes her away and sits back in his chair. _

_ Rey stands there with the shock of his rejection hitting like the snap of a rubber band. He’s not unaffected. She can smell it. The air is swirling with the combination of their scents. _

_ His hands are placed on his thighs, looking for a purpose. _

_ “Well, that’s...a thought,” he says with a hint of disdain in his voice. _

_ Rey backs up slowly, feeling the fantasy of Ben slip away. Every rehearsed line, every outcome played out seems silly in this moment as she stands there waiting. It doesn’t occur to her to gather her things and disappear. She can’t even manage to be embarrassed for being so wrong. _

_ She’s working through the past few minutes, and she knows her senses don’t lie. Every moment, every stolen glance, every kiss was leading them somewhere. His scent, rich and divine, so clearly told her that he wanted her too. _

_ The seconds stretch as he turns back to his desk gathering a few things. She collects those brief moments, the look on his face and the movement of his body as she had walked in the door, locking it behind her. _

_ The eager looks, his downcast eyes when she had made her offer. _

_ He’s hurt. _

_ “Or…,” she says, backing away from his chair. _

_ It leaves her mouth before she even knows how to continue. _

_ “Or,” he asks, turning to her expectantly. _

_ She bites her lip, cursing herself for fucking this up so badly. She turns away from him, shoving her thumb to her mouth and chewing the thin nail. _

_ “Rey, I don’t know what impression I’ve given you…” _

_ “It’s fine, it’s fine, Dr. Ben- Solo. Dr. Solo,” she says, gathering her things and holding them close to her chest. She refuses to look at him. She’d close her eyes if she didn’t need them to make her way out the door. _

_ Run for it. _

_ She reaches the door, but he’s there, his hand pressing into the wood, slamming it shut. She looks up and marvels at the sheer power of him, barely moving to cage her there. _

_ She feels the slow snake of his arm around her waist as he pulls her into his chest and leans in close. She pulls on the door, mainly for show. She doesn’t want to escape. She just wants to disappear into him. _

_ “Dr. Solo,” she says, her voice shaking with...need or hunger or nerves. _

_ He holds her in his arms, breathing heavily against her back. She can feel his heart pounding. _

_ “Please, Ben,” she says. _

_ She feels the hard angles of his body soften around her at her request. _

_ “Please, what,” he asks, his breath fraying with each exhale. _

_ She doesn’t know. _

_ No. _

_ She knows. She just doesn’t know if she can say it. _

_ Fuck me. _

_ Fill me. _

_ Knot me. _

_ Love me. _

_ She rubs her legs together, feeling the sticky slick coating the inside of her thighs. _

_ “Rey,” he sighs, as the perfume of her eagerness fills the small space. “I could knot you right now, up against this door,” he says, holding her and kicking her legs apart. “Is that what you want, Omega, what you need?” _

_ She whimpers, feeling her cheek press to the wooden door. _

_ She feels herself nod. _

_ “I see,” he says. Rey can hear the clink of a belt buckle. She’s still gripping her bag and coat, feeling the materials meld into her skin. _

_ She hears the rustle of fabric, the sharp pull of his shirt from the waistband of his pants. _

_ She startles at the slap of his hand above her on the door. She can feel his lips on her ear, trailing down until his breath tickles the fine hairs. _

_ “I don’t want some student, some Omega to fuck,” he says, whispering, biting and snapping through each consonant.  _

_ She swallows, humiliation flooding her skin. _

_ She grips the handle again, pulling. He leans over her, trapping her underneath his frame, his warmth, his scent. _

_ It wraps around her like an embrace, effectively stalling her from any additional movement. _

_ “Let’s be more than that,” he says, gripping her waist and slowly turning her to face him. She darts her eyes down, processing his words. He touches her chin to lift her eyes, trailing his fingers along her jaw and down her neck. He rests his hand over her gland before stepping back. _

_ She’s still clutching her things. She crosses her other arm across her chest.  _

_ Her skin feels warm, and she can only assume he can hear her heart pounding. _

_ Too afraid to ask for something more, she came assuming he’d want something less.  _

_ He tucks his shirt in, and slips one end of his belt back in place. She can see the outline of his cock in his pants. She bites her lip and looks off to the side to a table littered with folders and papers. _

_ She finally lets her bag fall from her tight grip and swing at her feet as she grips the handle. _

_ “Rey,” he says, placing his hand over hers. “I want those things, but if I’m going to go out on a limb for something, for someone…” _

_ “I get it, you don’t have to say anything,” she says, closing her eyes tight to dismiss him. _

_ “No, you don’t,” he says. He reaches up to touch her face, forcing her to look at him. “If I bend you over my desk right now and take you, I want to know that I get to buy you dinner, call you at the end of the day, share something more than a few moments satisfying my need to fuck you.” _

_ She feels the heat of his gaze over her face as she looks past him at the few stray items decorating his office. _

_ “What is it, Rey,” he asks, whispering and drawing her in, “tell me.” _

_ She looks up, her mouth agape. _

_ She chooses to swallow them, because how could she possibly tell him that she wants all of that too.  _

_ How could she possibly know what she wants when she barely knows him. _

_ “Tell me,” he pleads, “Tell me you want something more.” _

_ He looks so hopeful, like he would give anything for her to say what is so clearly written all over her face. _

_ “You’re not alone, Rey.” _

_ She shrinks at his words. _

_ “I’m sorry,” she says. _

_ She turns the handle and jerks open the door, sliding out of his office and running as fast as she can down the hall. _

* * *

  
  
  


“Ben,” she begins. She doesn’t have a solid idea of where she’s going. “Thank you.”

He looks up at her with a gentle, but confused expression.

“Thank you for including me in your evening.” She angles herself towards him. She’s desperate to chew her nails right now, desperate to take off the edge of this moment. She presses her fingers together, seeking the release of energy.

“Oh,” he says, nodding, “Yeah. It was...good.”

How unlikely they are as a pair.

Mated for life, and yet acting…

“Rey,” he says, sitting up from his relaxed position on the couch. “Do you have a blanket or something with your scent that I could borrow?”

Her mind reels from the implications. He wants her scent.

_ Alpha wants your scent. _

Last night. The scenting.

The touch.

It wasn’t enough for him. Of course, he doesn’t know what she heard later in the evening.

The panting. The longing in his voice.

It’s not enough to touch her, mark her, pleasure her. He wants to bury himself in her.

Rey hops up from her place on the couch, hesitant when she realizes that she will be creating space between them. She runs to the guest room, reminding herself that this is just another step in the process.

The movement around her room is a touch frantic. She darts her eyes around, trying to decide on the perfect item. 

The sound of his heavy footsteps startle her, and she realizes that he’s in his own room likely making this same decision. The underwear in her hamper seems like it would make an interesting statement, but after his reaction last night, she’s not sure if she could bear the mortified look on his face after she offered him slicked up underwear. She’s sure she has a sexy camisole or blouse she could offer him for inspiration.

“Here.”

Her feet lift at the sound of his voice at her door. Ben stands, somehow managing to fit under the doorway. With his feet planted on the hall side, he leans forward to hand her a sweatshirt. His sweatshirt.

“I wore it to bed last night, so…”

His face and body give her pause as she walks forward to take the item. She holds it, sniffing softly and licking her lips as if she could taste him. Her feet pad toward the bed before stopping at the edge. 

“Do you want to scent each other in here tonight,” she asks, sitting down and sliding over to make room for him to join.

His brows knit together, and she finds his sheepish demeanor adorable.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he says.

Rey’s heart leaps at the thought of lying next to him in his bed surrounded by Alpha.

He motions and begins to speak, his lips and hands unable to continue. The hesitation interrupts the flurry of excitement and interest flowing off of her.

“Rey, I…,” he says, “I don’t think we should scent each other. Like that.” Her face falls, and Ben tilts his head attempting to catch her falling gaze. “Not yet,” he adds, but maybe only to soften the blow.

Loss.

It feels like a big one.

The whole evening feels like a ploy to soften her up, only to crush her later with the request. He’s afraid that there will be a repeat of last night, so he’s looking for a loophole to feed their needs.

Rey stands up, her movements now slow and aimless.

“If it doesn’t work, we can talk,” he offers.

She grabs her shirt from last night off of the floor, walking towards him. It would be easy to shove it in his face and slam the door, but Rey has to keep seeing the bigger picture within everything that is going on. She folds the wrinkled fabric and hands it over to Ben, who is still avoiding her side of the floor.

She sighs, but smiles up at him to let him know that she’s okay as he turns to go toward his room.

Because she’s more than okay. Ben had been so open and eager for Rey to be more in his life. When he didn’t know where things stood with the two of them, he still managed to be vulnerable. 

She’s actually ready to start giving back.

If there’s anything that she could give them now, it would be her honesty. 

Even in small measures.

“You’re not alone, Ben,” she says. He stops at the bedroom door. His shoulders slouch with a sigh. His height seems to wane under her voice. It’s a risk to say those words out loud, especially if he remembers their significance.

It’s another surrender. 

Rey’s not sure if either of them are ready for the flood gates to open. 

He’s not making a move to turn around, and she studies the way he grips the door handle before he lets it go, hand falling to his side.

If ever there was a time for tears, it seems like now would be a fitting moment to sit down and let it all go. There were days that were far more difficult than this moment, but it all just feels like the air is being sucked out of the room. 

Those days are fresh and still healing, but the difference between now and then is that she has a little more courage to face it.

“I needed you to know that,” she says, her hand resting on the door frame to garner some strength.

She pulls the sweatshirt close. His scent is a gift. She inhales loudly, taking every note into herself. He’s all clove and warm maple notes, but also, the mint from flecks of toothpaste or the deodorant that nearly makes her sob into the fabric. It smells like waking up in his arms.

Rey’s not interested in hiding her response. She needs him to know how he overwhelms her mind and body. Maybe words won’t do alone, maybe she needs both.

She pulls her face away from his sweatshirt, fresh tears falling. Her eyes are bright and calm from the influence of her mate’s scent. Ben stands there watching her as she smiles up at him.

“Thank you,” she says, motioning to the sweatshirt before she hugs it close to her chest.

Ben sighs. It stutters and sputters as it leaves his mouth. 

Later she’ll daydream that he changes his mind and swiftly moves to lift her in his arms and press his mouth to hers, licking and biting at her lips. She’ll bury her face in the fabric and twist her hips in pleasure as her fingers circle and tease to a climax. She knows herself. She knows the way that his presence has planted the seeds.

He smiles back, nodding his head once and then turning his face to her tshirt tangled in his hands.

“I meant it,” she says, unwilling to let him slip away without acknowledging it, 

“you’re not alone.”

His fingers reach again for the door handle, making his way through the bedroom door. Her knees are buckling, but she persists, making herself stand tall.

He shifts back, his dark waves brushed away from his face with a swift motion of his hand.

“Neither are you,” he says, his eyes reassuring and the lines of his face framing his smile.

It feels benevolent and big and beautiful. She clings to the fabric and closes the door behind her, flopping on the bed.

Win.

  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *CW/TW: Rey was a child in the foster system. She suffered neglect and was forced into child labor under her last guardian, Plutt. She presents as an Omega, and is found by an Alpha under her first heat, but there is only the threat of an attack. Plutt threatens/proposes selling her off to the highest bidder once she leaves his home. She works through these scenarios in a session with Dr. Holdo, who is hoping to establish her reasons for distrusting her situation with Ben.
> 
> **As someone experiences and relives trauma, we don’t often have the full picture, so keep in mind that that is what you are getting with Rey. Flashbacks are often out of order or seem out of place intentionally. We are living through them as Rey is recalling them. 
> 
> We are also out of the darkest times, but some dark still lies ahead, because recovery is fucking uncomfortable.
> 
> This chapter took longer than I expected. I really love this story, and some aspects of it are quite personal to me. SO...some of it was more difficult to write than expected. I have a good bit of the upcoming chapters fleshed out at this point, so future updates should come a little quicker.
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read, kudos, recommend, and comment. It really makes my day when you express your excitement over this story! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and are looking forward to what’s to come :)
> 
> XOXO


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hey. 
> 
> Mind the tags. Nothing new, just a reminder.

_ “We should probably talk about my research project some more this time,” Rey says, coffee in hand. _

_ Dr. Solo. _

_ Ben. _

_ He told her that she could call him Ben outside of class. _

_ Ben nods to another professor as they pass them before turning back to Rey.  _

_ “But, I’m dying to know what happened with that colleague from your class,” he says. _

_ Rey blinks and rolls her lips inward to hide the grin threatening to grow. It’s strange having someone remember so much about her life after only a few conversations. _

_ And something so insignificant. _

_ But, he had laughed and offered his support, even if it was a comical solution. _

_ She finds herself eager to have something more interesting to say. She’s searching and sifting through her mind to muster some odd detail, something worthy. _

_ Nothing. _

_ Nothing more had happened after she had told him about her colleague. Some asshole trying to pass off an idea in a discussion that he had read on the internet as his own. It was just some anecdote, an observation. _

_ But, in this moment, she’d gladly use any old story if it meant he would keep looking at her the way he does when he’s waiting for her to speak. Like she holds a special key. _

_ Perhaps she could just make something up. _

_ She frowns, confused by her eagerness to be dishonest in the face of gaining his attention. She purses her lips, chewing the inside, desperate to reach for her thumb.  _

_ For a few moments, the thought of not holding his attention overwhelms the knowledge that is deep within her that she’s smart, funny, and interesting all on her own. _

_ It messes with her mind, those little thoughts. It creeps up her fingers, winding and climbing as it wraps its way up to the center of her chest, until she’s avoiding his eyes. Avoiding a blush appearing from the realization that maybe she wants his gaze, his interest, and perhaps the same creeping feeling on her skin born from his touch. _

_ She’s still holding the thoughts close as she smiles and shakes her head, “Nothing. Nothing else happened.” _

_ The twisting paths of campus seem to stretch further and further away today, as they shuffle close to a bin to dispose of their drinks. The skies are a milky grey, thatched with clouds stretched over the sky.  _

_ They’ve only met a few times. Each meeting had been brief, a few glances at schedules, a quick hello after sitting in on one of his lectures. Not until their more recent meeting at a small corner table in the coffee shop across from campus had they had any time to sit face to face. It was nothing intimate, no burning sexual tension.  _

_ Somehow that had made it worse.  _

_ Sitting before him, sipping her sugary, caffeinated concoction, she had given away little parts of herself. Little details not ready to be entertained by anyone but the guiding voice in her head. _

_ The ease she felt around him spilled out in little words. Little words bubbling forth, light, floating.  _

_ Her fears, her desires for the future, her uncertainty about her future. _

_ She’s measuring the width of her smile as she glances at him and picks up her pace to fall closer in step. Her bag, securely settled to her shoulder, now has the additional assistance of the sharp tug of her hand to keep it close. He looks back, finding her tucked closer to his side as they pass a few students on the path. She sees a flash, a satisfied smirk that instantly disappears, tucked away from her view.  _

_ It would be easy to dismiss those as a few flirting looks, or a heated moment of interest, but the real possibility of knowing him, knowing herself in his eyes, leaves her mind busy. _

_ It feels like a risk to keep herself shifted closer, but she hasn’t moved her body away. _

_ Rey feels the alarm bells approaching, ready to sound off at any moment, but she can’t do anything right now to make them ring. She’s tempting them, enticing them to make a move, but they're quiet, leaving her with her breath and her heartbeat. _

_ A loud clap sounds from above as they look up, the ceiling now a dark, heavy herald with muted flashes of light beneath. _

_ Had she noticed the sky?  _

_ No. _

_ With nothing on the forecast except a few clouds and her walk with Ben, she’d allowed herself the freedom from worrying about her wardrobe, or even the practicality of an umbrella. _

_ He looks at her, disappointment there in his eyes, “We should probably hurry, unless we’re interested in a sprint.” _

_ She hides her own disappointment as they both pick up their steps. _

_ Another clap breaks through the air and the clouds sigh in large, splattering drops. It hits the brick pathways, filling her ears as they look at each other and take off running to the closest building. The drops pick up speed, dumping more and more onto campus is filled with the applause of rain. Rey is smaller, but fast with her steps. She has a good head start with the sound of their steps splashing. She nearly slips as her feet come in contact with the slick, green grass along their path. She feels her arms fan out to gain back her balance until she feels her feet forge ahead, with Ben’s hand gripping her elbow for support. _

_ Rey squeals in surprise, and she hears him behind her chuckling under his breath.  _

_ “I heard that,” she yells back to him as she feels the drops rolling down her scalp to gather over her forehead and neck. _

_ They’re laughing.  _

_ She can hear it, an accompaniment to nature.  _

_ So far away, they’ll never make it before becoming soaked. There’s really no reason to run. _

_ His feet pick up as the sky overhead becomes darker and she’s surrounded with a new roof, warm and brown and tweed. _

_ She nearly trips as her senses become full of rich maples, fig, and spice. _

_ Her feet slow and he picks up at her side, shuffling closer to the archway at the edge of the building. _

_ He joins her underneath his coat, the drops on his hair and face dripping down and off the point of his nose. Keeping one hand on the strap of her bag, she feels the other release and grip Ben around his waist until her fingers dig into his back to hold on. The makeshift home becomes warmer with every passing breath between them as he wraps his free arm around her shoulders to bring her in closer. _

_ The outside disappears as she feels her face drift away from the path, tempted by the lingering aroma on his shirt. _

_ She laughs again at a dip in the path, water splashing up from the step of her foot.  _

_ Cover is within reach, and before she knows it, he’s pulling the drenched coat from her, shaking it as they continue to laugh, a little breathless from the run. _

_ But, it isn’t just the run that leaves her panting. _

_ The chatter of students, the life of the campus is quiet, everything still with the exception of the drumming of the storm.  _

_ Everything except the storm and the buzz of energy swirling around them. _

_ He looks at her, a soft smile twisting into shape as he watches her shivering in front of him. He shakes, running a hand back to loosen and push the locks of dripping hair from his face. _

_ Rey fights to stay still, feeling the rush of cool air blowing through the breezeway that wraps around the main entrance of the building. Her nipples harden under the cotton bra, and she knows she should be thinking about that. Maybe wrapping her arms across her chest. _

_ Instead, she stands facing him, her lips parted as he reaches forward, fingertips wiping the few drops of rain from her cheeks. _

_ She’s holding her breath, letting go in a slow release as she feels her eyelashes flutter like the motion of a butterfly’s wings, rippling and sending the change out into the universe. _

_ Her tongue feels heavy, the tip of it dragging along the back of her bottom teeth as she licks her lips for a taste. _

_ He looks down at her, his eyes following the way she moistens her mouth. It feels lascivious, the way she strokes her lips.  _

_ Her breath hitches at the taste.  _

_ Cutting through the damp air and the musty cove of brick is a scent that she’ll never be able to escape. _

_ It robs her of breath. The pleasure of it coats her mouth. _

_ Her face open in shock and her eyes so full of need, she steps forward for another sip from the fountain.  _

_ Without any doubt, the words leave her mouth,  _

_ “Alpha.” _

_ No question. No plea. _

_ Just a recognition. _

_ They stand before each other, the firsts and only ones. _

_ She feels the voice. Not a part. The whole.  _

_ One in the same. _

_ Her arms at her side, palms facing in surrender, she feels the claim rise in her throat. _

_ Mine. _

_ She squints through more drops and rubs her eyes. _

_ It breaks the moment of serenity. _

_ “Oh my God, I’m sorry,” she says, nervously adjusting her clothes, smearing the water and wisps of hair off of her forehead. _

_ She glances down at her top, pulling the fabric away.  _

_ He’s barely moving, his eyes the only sign that he’s registered her movements. They dart around quickly, taking in the scene in front of him. She’s pacing, wringing out her garments, adjusting herself to distract from what just happened. _

_ “It’s fine,” he says. He sounds calm, but a little unsteady, his voice not having the same clarity as before. _

_ “No, no. It’s awful…,” she says, her movements becoming clipped as the embarrassment begins to build, “Fuck. What the fuck.” _

_ “It’s not awful, Rey, really,” he says, his hands finally moving with his words to reassure. _

_ Reaching.  _

_ His hands are large, and she is already anticipating their warmth when he touches her neck, his thumb resting in the hollow of her throat. His fingers brush her gland, and she is instantly soothed. Her breathing is heavy and relaxed underneath the motion of his thumb as it moves down in a line over the exposed skin, nearly touching her sternum. He’s lost in his task, and she can see when it happens, that same pull from her own lips when his mouth forms the words. _

_ “It’s okay, Omega,” he says, followed by an exhale that sounds much like relief. _

* * *

  
  


It’s a different day, or at least it’s supposed to be. 

It’s possible that her life has come full circle to the same spot as yesterday, a quiet house, the uncertainty of the next steps. 

It’s possible that she’s just replaying the same day over and over again, desperate for a way out of this cycle. 

Like in a movie.

The birds chirp, the walls settle, and those same appliances join her slow breaths with their hum of approval.

She inhales.

_ Home. _

This morning she has the added benefit of being able to bury her nose in Ben. She skipped the ceremony of neatly folding the fabric. After making sure to brush her teeth before bed, she pulled the sweater over her head, letting the scent hang over her like a thick curtain. She refuses to be shy about what took place in the dark room, her finger hardly removed from her warm cunt before she drifted off to sleep.

She wasn’t interested in hiding this from him. He had likely done the same. She was counting on it, and eventually, with each conversation, she could only hope that physically, things would become easier.

God, how she hoped.

She missed him. 

It was bewildering, trying to entice her own mate with the scent of her nighttime activities.

She can feel his eyes on her at times, a sweep of those honey orbs, a glassy longing making her heart race. But, if she dares catch him, it’s gone too quickly. So quickly that it’s easy to mistake it for her own desperation. 

His smile was one of her keepsakes. Soft and curious, mysterious and affectionate. She held the memory of the first one he gave her fast in her mind as she looked at him over the environmentally friendly cup of coffee.

She fell in that moment, didn’t she?

Let the earth consume her and spit her out.

That first smile was simply the beginning of her great descent.

And then she was undone and exposed before him.

He was standing before her smelling so goddamn good, looking so inviting.

The questions had flooded in, standing there dripping wet. She had been somewhere between presenting herself to him and running without casting her eyes behind.

The moments after she opened that door to him had stretched long enough for the hum of elements around them to begin to dispel into the background.

She wonders how long they’d stood there in the static. What had he been thinking while staring at her face and form?

Had he even lingered that long? Was his face really as hungry as she recalls?

She crosses her arms over her eyes, inhaling more of him as she rolls on her side, moving her face to rest on the cool side of the pillow.

Rey burrows further, letting herself fade into the movie once more.

_ She’s standing before him, no longer shivering, but warm and thrilling at the sound of his Alpha calling. _

_ His face twists, and he holds her neck with a gentle squeeze. _

Maybe the memory has faded. Maybe the clouds have become darker and more ominous in her mind, but the way she had slowly released herself from him feels painful and real.

Rey hates thinking about this part.

She hates it so much.

She rolls over, her face in the pillow.

She wants to rewrite it, let his fingers linger and follow the path down to cup her breasts. Wait as he bends down to kiss her cheek, her neck, and tongue her gland.

In the fantasy, she lets his index finger run a little path at the neckline of her top and pull and pull and pull until her breasts are free to be touched, kissed, and nuzzled.

And this time, when he calls her, she doesn’t run away.

* * *

  
  
  


Rey exits the bathroom, freshly showered and with a hint of tinted lip balm on her lips. She can’t help the urge she had, standing in front of the mirror. 

The lips had been an afterthought, alluring and minimal.

She’s actively trying not to be ashamed of wanting to make him pay attention.

Rey is somewhat surprised to find Ben already in the kitchen, a few items on the counter for breakfast preparations.

She smiles at his backside. He’s not in pajamas, but still far more casual than she’s accustomed. The navy henley hugs his shoulders and accentuates his arms. If she doesn’t watch her thoughts, she may be visiting her room to take another turn with his sweater.

“Coffee,” he asks, moving to pour her a cup. 

“Thanks,” she says, bringing his folded sweatshirt from her side, holding it out to him.

His eyes look down at her hands as she places it on the kitchen island, letting him see where she’s placing it.

He puzzles over it for a second.

“I just figured that now it has both of our scents, it may be helpful,” she says, “You know, we could trade back and forth, maybe?”

He’s fixing her coffee, although she’s not sure if he’s actually paying attention as the dark liquid turns pale in color and the sugar seems unlikely to stop pouring.

“You can grab that shirt whenever…”

“I washed it,” he says, moving over to remove a mixing bowl from the cabinet.

“Oh, okay,” she says, disappointed. 

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” she says as his gestures become more closed off and nervous, and the implications make her face flame.

He looks up, sheepish and silent at the wide grin on her face.

He rolls his eyes, throwing a hand up and gesturing in frustration.

“It’s in my laundry hamper,” he says, his voice devoid of color as he mumbles in her general direction.

She nearly runs off to collect it and devour, but she chooses to stay with him.

_ You’re not alone, Ben. _

She chuckles, attempting to keep it low.

“You think that sweatshirt hasn’t had a good evening,” she asks, motioning behind her to the neatly folded and defiled article of clothing.

He nearly jumps at her admission, his muscles straining to stay put.

He nods, a thin smile on his face.

“I’m sorry, Rey,” he says, “You smell good.”

“Good,” she asks, playfully defensive.

“Really good,” he says, staring at the eggs, his hands braced on the countertop.

“Really good?”

He throws his head back, squeezing his eyes tight, “I’m sorry that I came all over your shirt!”

Her laugh reverberates throughout the kitchen. It’s warm and light, and Ben can’t help but react to it.

She can feel him watch her as she doubles over, pressing her face into the cold counter, her eyes welling up and her stomach nearly aching from his confession.

“Don’t crow too loudly,” he says, “You could end up eating toast for breakfast.”

She giggles harder than before, lifting her eyes to glance at him over her folded arms.

He’s caught.

His eyes are soft, his smile almost wistful.

His chin turns to look behind her, and Rey stills.

The doorbell rings, and she stands, glancing to the front door.

“Did you invite someone over?”

She looks back at Ben, at the way his body twists uncomfortably.

“No, no,” she insists, “No one knows you’re here, except...well, your parents, my friends.”

She turns to answer the door, but he swings around the corner of the island, making his way past her.

“I got it.”

She follows behind him.

“Ben, they may just be checking in. Maybe Dr. Holdo, although she would have called.”

Another ring.

Persistent.

His relationship with his parents was complicated. The relationship she had with her friends had been tested and stretched thin over the past year. If anything, they were there to worry over her, or them.

Ben reached the door, and swung it open.

“Hello there, old friend.”

The light from outside hides him from her sight until she can fully approach the door, standing at Ben’s side.

“Hello, Omega.”

“Her name is Rey,” Ben responds, a bite in his words.

Rey looks past Ben to see a tall man with a fair face and short, ginger hair on the doorstep.

The lines of his outfit are clean, dark, and tailored to perfection. The collar of his coat is likely higher than necessary. His hair is slicked and parted to the side.

She feels Ben’s hand gently rest on her stomach, gently restraining any additional movements forward.

The man catches the gesture and smiles. It’s smug and oily.

Her heart begins to race, and Ben moves his hand to wrap around her hip, so easily gripping to rest his fingers on the small of her back.

“I’m not really interested in what you call her as long as she’s under a firm hand.”

Rey’s stomach flips, the words stripping her of the few sweet moments from before and leaving a hollow nightmare.

Ben growls. 

Like an animal, he growls, and Rey’s body is working against her, producing a trickle of slick at the promise of her mate’s protection. She holds his arm firm to her, determined not to move in the face of this...Alpha. 

A fucking Alpha.

“Well,” he begins, his eyes moving back and forth between Ben and Rey, “I just wanted to check in. See how you were settling.”

“We’re fine,” Ben replies, his shoulders beginning to curl in to pounce on the threat.

“It smells like it,” he says.

Her insides lurch. Ben tightens his grip, and Rey feels a flurry of fire in her blood. A thin line of anger pointed from Ben to the stranger. 

The man leaves without another word, turning with a smile.

Ben slams the door, and the walls shake.

Rey begins to back away from the door and Ben, confusion sweeping through her.

She looks to Ben, his hand receding from being outstretched in her direction. There’s pain in his eyes.

Her mouth opens to speak, but his voice cuts through first.

“Why are  _ you  _ upset?”

He’s ushering her back behind the plexiglass, that same bitterness in his tone.

“Who was that?”

He walks away from her, and she’s quick on his heels.

“Who was that, Ben?”

He slams a few things around, mindless of whether he needs anything from those cabinets or drawers.

“Ben.”

“Someone that I used to be associated with,” he says, his words clipped. 

His eyes study her face, hesitant to speak further.

“First Order.”

_ What is your involvement with the First Order? _

She shudders as her mind flashes to white, sterile walls.

_ How long have you been associated with Mr. Ren? _

She winces before looking back at him.

She’s twisting her face, forcing herself to relax.

His knuckles are white as he grips the edge of the counter, as if he was ready to rip it off.

She wants to ask if he’s in any danger. She wants to know what the man wants.

But, it’s a difficult subject to wade through for them both. Too many conversations lost in bitter tears and insults to be useful right now. The time will come. The dam will break any day now, she can feel it. The days of scenting and settling, of pleasant moments and walking the thin line will eventually end.

For now she just wants it to be enough that she’s here. If she only manages to stand still and be present beside him.

She swallows, walking towards his grip as she lays a hand over one of his own.

She shrugs, “Eggs?”

His hands loosen, turning a more natural shade of fair.

She moves to touch the gland at his neck, instead brushing her thumb over his knuckles.

He almost melts. 

Not quite, but almost.

He lets go of the counter, looking around at the array of empty bowls in front of him.

“Actually, I was thinking of toast.”

* * *

  
  
  


_ Rey opens her eyes to the faint sound of water running, more prominent as her awareness of her surroundings grows. She knows the answer to her question, but she still rolls over to reach across the other side of the bed to find it still warm from Ben’s body. _

_ She’s been here a handful of times now, sometimes only long enough to let him fill her and leave before the rest of the world has noticed her absence. Before anyone can comment on her comings and goings. _

_ It’s not even the first time that she’s stayed over, just the first time that she’s had no other demands on her time.  _

_ The previous evening was spent with his cock in her mouth, and his knot inside of her. _

_ A chill runs through from spine to pelvis, and she burrows further into the covers. _

_ She let him knot her for the first time.  _

_ She bites her lip and smiles until her cheeks are sore. _

_ She shoves her hand in between her thighs, the thought planting a seed and begging for attention and friction. _

_ He asked, she begged. _

_ It was delicious the way his body had sought out the deep place inside of her and had held her close, as if every part of her had known that all she had ever wanted was to be locked to him. Her body demanded it, accepting him and inviting him in. _

_ She covers her face with her hands as the reality of the evening’s events sound off. She lists them, searching the validity of every moment in her mind. _

_ She came here for dinner. _

_ He poured her a glass of wine. _

_ They watched each other, standing in the kitchen. _

_ She had placed her glass down, moving towards him with every bit of confidence that she could manage. _

_ He sighed as she traced the outline in his pants. _

_ He had possessed enough sense to set a timer on the oven before letting her kneel before him and unzip his pants. _

_ With a mess of limbs, sheets, and the timer incessantly beeping in the background, he held himself over her as he continued to thrust deep inside of her warmth. _

_ “Wanna knot you,” he’d said, “All I can think about.” _

_ She nodded. Simple.  _

_ His pace had slowed, making her moans nearly turn into weeping. _

_ “Rey, can I? Can I knot you?” _

_ “Yes, yes, yes. Please, yes.” _

_ Too excited to drag it out any further, Ben had picked up the pace making her cry out from the eager assault on her flesh. _

_ She took every bit before coming and crying out his name. _

_ “Oh, Ben. Oh, fuck, Alpha. Please, Alpha. Please knot me.” _

_ The ripple of sound from his chest made her toes curl further as the words from her mouth continued to pour out. _

_ “Omega,” he said, a whisper in her ear, before he lost himself to her cunt. _

_ The feeling was unusual and new. Maybe scary for a few seconds when the weight of her decision began to take hold. _

_ The feeling had transformed from too much to not enough. She gasped for air as her heart raced. _

_ And then there she was.  _

_ The other piece. _

_ Underneath him, always her shelter, they had stared, stunned expressions and glassy eyes. His lips kept moving as if to speak, but nothing came out. He could only manage to sigh, his breath warm in her mouth, on her cheeks, and tickling her ears as he flooded her insides.  _

_ Rey can still smell them both permeating the sheets as she sits up and looks at the bathroom door. _

_ She slips out from the incredible comfort of his bed, padding her way to the closet. She has clothes. They had been quickly slipped off and flung into the abyss. _

_ She’ll retrieve them, but it’s Saturday, and she won’t be slipping out with a quick peck on the lips and a goodbye this time. _

_ He had asked her to stay, promising brunch and gentle fondling on his couch if she could spare a day before heading back to her apartment. _

_ She flips the light on, and her eyebrows raise at the immaculate state of his closet. The shelves are all organized, every shirt on a hanger, and no item forgotten. _

_ Her fingers caress the soft fabrics as she runs her hands over the hangars making them dance and sway. His sweaters are folded neatly on a shelf. His shoes are placed side by side on lower shelves, unlike her stack that’s thrown into a blackhole at the bottom of her closet and by her front door. _

__

_ He’s just as buttoned up and neat as he appears in nearly every aspect she sees. It’s a wonder what he sees in her. _

_ She’s thrilled when she recognizes clothes that he owns, things that she’s seen him wear or carry in their time together, as if she knows any real details of his life. She pretends for a few moments that she knows her way around, picking his outfit out, maybe reaching into the imaginary corner that he’s cleared out for a few of her things. Just for a moment, she’s not the fling rummaging through his closet, but his lover, picking out that blue shirt that she loves. Her eyes come across a small wooden box surrounded by his watch, a handful of loose change, and a tie pin. He had it on yesterday. _

_ She peeks inside the open, wooden box to find additional pins, cufflinks, a few older pieces.  _

_ Maybe heirlooms. _

_ She finds a few trinkets. A gold keychain. Dice. A gold band. A few pins, likely from his days at school. _

_ She puzzles over a little silver badge. _

_ K. Ren _

_ It means nothing to Rey.  _

_ She runs it over and over on her tongue hoping the sound will trigger something. _

_ Turning the badge over in her hand, she catches the small print on the back, and the clear stamp of a First Order insignia. _

_ Her fist closes over it making it disappear. _

_ Her heart races, and her stomach flips. _

_ Rey places the badge back, returning it to the same spot. _

_ She fumbles around, backing out of the closet and quietly shutting the closet. The water is no longer running, and she can hear his movements behind the closed door. _

_ Her eyes dart around the room, her eyes falling on a partially open bottom drawer, a thin line of cotton apparent from the outside. _

_ She pulls it out through the opening, quickly pulling the white undershirt over her head. Her eyes turn back to the closet. She swallows, pushing down the hem of the shirt until it covers the tops of her thighs. _

_ It could be nothing. Maybe he knew someone who died when the government purged the First Order. Maybe they were family. _

_ It wasn’t uncommon. _

_ Her attention snaps to the bathroom door as it swings open, and Ben appears with his hair damp and tucked behind his ears. He glances at the bed, not seeing her, his face falling as he views the twisted sheets and empty pillows. _

_ “I was promised breakfast,” she says. _

_ He turns, and he looks relieved to see her. _

_ And maybe aroused. _

_ He smiles, taking in her bare legs, the small peaks of nipples under the fabric of the shirt. _

_ “And groping,” he says. _

_ “Fondling,” she says, correcting him. _

_ He walks toward her, and she leans up on her toes to kiss him. He can cup her face with one hand, and he holds her still as she leans into his open mouth.  _

_ He pulls away, dragging his lips across hers, tickling her and making her toes twist and grip the plush rug. _

_ “We could do both,” he says. _

_ The air releases from her mouth in a huff as her body, her Omega, responds to his suggestion. _

_ “I could knot you, and just keep filling you over and over again,” he whispers, his other hand joining its partner to cradle her head and let his thumbs pull down her bottom lip. “Fill your mouth to keep you sustained, and your pussy…” _

_ She cuts him off with her tongue, curling and licking into his open mouth, all other lingering thoughts drifting away. _

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“Ben,” she says.

She moves her fingers back to reach for him again, skating over the smooth countertop until she comes into contact with his warmth.

Ben’s expression is clouded and his eyes seem to swim. She glances at the counter and back to him. He’s no longer looking in front of him. His focus has melted into something dark, something deep back in the recesses of his mind.

Her gut churns, and she knows. She knows that it’s Ben, struggling beside her.

Ben accepts her hand, but the reception is lukewarm.

He is lost somewhere.

Her steps are careful, but she comes to his side.

“I tried, you know,” he says, staring ahead, “I tried to be that monster.”

“You’re not a monster.”

He scoffs.

“Oh, but you thought so,” he says, turning to stop her protest. 

He motions toward her, his hand falling and brushing his hip. 

“At least initially,” he adds.

Rey doesn’t have a response ready for him to digest. She had doubted him. The anger didn’t last, but it lingered long enough. Long enough to wreak havoc on the slim trust between her and her mate.

“How did they convince you, Rey? What did they say to make you believe,” he says, his voice pained and bitter.

_ How long have you known Kylo Ren? _

“Do you remember?”

_ Has he coerced you or commanded you? _

Of course she remembers.

_ Did you give consent when he mated you? _

It had been part of their undoing.

Every excuse, every reason begins to stack up in her mind. The weight is crushing.

“You’re not a monster.”

It’s all she can manage.

“I tried,” he says and smiles. It’s boyish. It’s her smile, her treasure. And he’s twisting it, making it something crude. “Maybe I was for a little while,” he says. He bites his lip, maybe holding back that struggle of tears or words. He begins to move away from her reach, pacing further and further away from her with each step.

“I was so fucking angry. I hated you,” he says, nodding, a remembrance, and Rey can feel the icy fingers of the bond snake to her heart. It pulls tighter and releases, and Rey realizes again that it’s Ben. His turmoil. “I was pretty sure that I did. I’d get myself off, fresh from being scented...after one of our more  _ interesting  _ visits. I would pull on the fear. Yours. Mine. I’d let myself see you that way, so compliant, begging and gagging for me to knot you.” 

He smiles again, but this time there’s no hint of anything that she treasures. Only the creature that she’s created. Only her guilt.

“I’d say it out loud. All of those things you feared the most. I’d take the form of this depraved creature, and fuck you in my dreams.”

Her face is a mess. 

The truth is a mess.

She’s taking every bite of every phrase and swallowing, trying not to regurgitate the contents. There are so many things that they can atone for, but for this, she is the one who has to listen.

“I’m  _ still  _ angry,” he says.

“I know,” she says.

_ Me too. _

Ben cries.

She’s seen it before and even heard him, but this is the first time that she recognizes the song as like her own.

Loss.

“I’m a failure.”

“No, you’re not,” she says, jumping to his defense.

“I am, believe me. I am, but I won’t apologize. I have failed at hating you at every turn. In my mind, I turned you into everything you hated, but in the end, it wasn’t true, and when you told me that I could come home…,” the deep baritone of his voice trails off, vying for courage.

He swallows and turns to look at her, meeting her eyes.

“When you told me that you were bringing me home, all I could think about was all of the ways I wanted to bury myself in you.”

She’s not sure what she should do right now.

It feels like an invitation.

“Do it,” she whispers.

He looks into her face. Her splotchy, disaster of a face, and his eyes are a question.

“Do it,” she says again, “Do it.” 

He’s studying her face, and she can’t move and the tears are quickly seeking the ground beneath her. 

“Ben,  _ please _ . Just do it.”

Knowing.

Like in her memories. 

Like when she first called his Alpha to recognize her Omega.

She can’t change the past. She can’t skip the part where she doesn’t run scared with the balls of her feet aching from running so hard and fast in the rain.

She feels it again, the energy, the pull.

She leaves her arms at her side, facing her palms out in surrender. Her eyelids flutter and close.

Rey feels the floor shift, and she opens her eyes.

Ben stands, shifting his body to bring himself to his full height.

Before she can fall to her knees and ask one more time, the sight of him is lost in a wash of navy knit as she’s lifted into the arms of her lover.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this took so long. I could blame it on the little hiatus I took to write my Thanksgiving fic, but honestly, I've been agonizing over this chapter a bit, because something's gotta give with these two. I had it written and just needed to edit, buuuuuut then, I wrote OT. And then I saw different possibilities, etc.
> 
> Just some thoughts on the chapter that are less serious and more about my brand of self-deprecating humor. Yes, I have a breakfast kink. Yes, I do have a thing for Rey in a white undershirt. Also, some of this is just straight up weather smut.
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you for reading, all of your amazing comments, and for sharing it with others. I'm very grateful for the love! ❤️ Also, thank you to @reylo_addict for the prayer circle LMAO


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the tags, please. 
> 
> *There are two new tags and note at the end of the chapter if you want a heads up.

_ “Tell me something about you,” he says, stroking her spine with his fingers, “anything.” _

_ She arches and leans into his caress like a feline, stretching and wanting to feel his warm hands on every inch of her skin. _

_ The displacement of covers chills her limbs, and she tucks her arms beneath her as she looks up at him. _

_ He’s gorgeous. _

_ Of course, he’s a very typical Alpha. Large and imposing in presence. He’s stretched out next to her, propped up by his elbow and scanning her form. _

_ She doesn’t know what to say, really. _

_ “You’re so observant,” she says, shyly, “What do you see?” _

_ Rey curls her lips inward, tilting her chin down until nothing of her face is visible to him except her eyes.  _

_ She blinks as he inhales, long breaths to savor their combined scents. _

_ He exhales quickly, and his eyes cloud. She turns her face away, leaning further into every stroke of his hand. He takes the same path, removing his hand when he reaches her hips and returning to the nape and back down. _

_ Ben pets her, and she lifts her hips, asking him to explore lower, but he stays the course. Her thighs squeeze, and she wiggles back and forth on her hip points, looking for a small piece of friction to accompany the thrill of his hand. _

_ He pauses in his path, letting his hand curve over her shoulder and down the sensitive flesh under her arm. Her hands tighten over her chest, and she silently laughs at how ticklish she feels at the light touch. _

_ Stretched on her stomach and facing away from his gaze, she feels safe from his curiosity and questions she can’t answer. She keens when his finger drags along the curve of her breast and her rib cage, like gently teasing open an envelope. _

_ As she arches again, he steals the opportunity and pulls her into his chest, pressing close while his fingers explore and her eyes drift close. _

_ He parts her lips with his fingers, swirling them through the release of slick. _

_ She can’t arch any further, her lower back pinching and twisting as he hits that little bundle of nerves. _

_ Her need for him is so apparent in the air. He’s barely reached a rhythm when she’s rubbing herself up against him seeking an outlet for her hunger. _

_ She’s a flower, and he’s the sun. _

_ So simple. _

_ Wherever he turns his attention, she’s there, her body unfurling for him. _

_ Her shoulders drop flat to the bed when he rolls over her and pushes his length inside. _

_ They groan, pausing to get accustomed to the feeling of being connected. _

_ “Oh, Alpha” she says, “Feels so good.” _

_ She’s sore from the previous evening, but she only feels the sting once before her body responds with more slick, more scent, and a new pull to take him deeper inside. _

_ He pushes in, slow thrusts, a slow build. _

_ She’s taking his cock deep and letting the only tension exist in her hands as she searches for somewhere to grip and keep her steady. Rey licks her lip, anticipating the beautiful way he leads her to her climax. _

_ Ben falls over her, leaning to lick and suck her gland. _

_ She finds a solid grip in the wide expanse of his shoulders, nearly driving her nails into his skin and marking him with ten perfect, little crescent moons.  _

_ Rey lifts her hips, pushing and rolling to meet him and control more of the movement. _

_ He kisses her mouth, small pecks that are chaste and sweet, a far cry from the searing consumption that she’s become accustomed. His tongue, his soft, edible lip doesn’t push her mouth open to take him. He doesn’t drag his teeth down her jaw to spur her on. _

_ Soft kisses, soft thrusts. _

_ “Is this how I get in, Rey,” he asks, his voice shaking, “through your cunt?” He hiccups, or maybe it's a small sob. “Is this how you let me in?” _

_ Let me in, Rey. _

_ Let me in. _

Let it all fall down. 

The First Order.

Her life before.

The misunderstandings, the lies, the betrayal of trust.

Burn it and let the ashes scatter for all she cares.

Ben is here, and he’s holding her.

How his scent, and hers, blooms and fills the air as he carries her from the main room and down the small hall.

She dares to look into his face as she wraps herself further around him, indulging in the small movements of her pelvis as she lightly grinds and invites him. The ready hesitation appears, haunting her after months and months of guarding her will.

She leaves those thoughts, abandoned, on the hardwood floor along with her shirt.

She has so many options for places to put her hands, her mouth, and tongue.

She could run her fingers through his hair, tugging until his mouth releases in pain, until he succumbs to the assault. But, she only finds herself able to grip his shoulders. 

Those shoulders are a ledge from which she hangs onto, every muscle tensing as if afraid he will change his mind and let her down from this tower.

One hand supports her bottom, the other reaches across her back. His arms reach and hold her head close.

His scent.

Her scent.

It blooms and flows in another burst and something burns beneath.

She wants to drown in it.

Her fingers tug on the fabric of his shirt, stopping to notice the lean muscles and lines of his body beneath.

Has he always been this soft underneath her, this strong and complete?

She’s dreamt of this, fantasized, fetishized every detail of this moment. It’s always ravenous and desperate to its core the way she imagines that they would tear each other apart. A flash of limbs and garments, snarling through gnashing teeth and spitting out demands for release.

It’s nothing like that, at least not in this moment, as she floats to the bedroom with only the feel of fingertips brushing the base of her scalp. She’s aware of how the tiny hairs on her arms wave and rise. The line of a thin nail draws patterns at her nape as her head lolls back.

She’s melting and oozing from head to toe into his frame, his lips and tongue are praising the gland on her neck. 

_ Please. _

_ Just let me have this. _

They’ve shared contact, scents, and words since the last time he had fully consumed her, but it’s all fading under the sheer joy of this moment.

Every touch had been this rush of pleasure and desire to her brain that had propelled her forward. Rey’s always been able to sustain herself on very little, and every small shred of hope she has gained in the last week has gone straight to that same memory bank to file away.

Hope has become her new greatest pleasure.

Her stomach begins twisting in anticipatory knots, because she fully expects him to throw her on the bed and strip her of her clothing and her walls.

He just stares, his breath leaving his mouth fast and hot.

Rey returns his gaze, pushing the longer locks of jet black away from his face.

She’s had limited access to him for so long. She’s adding each moment missed as her hands run over his face, her thumbs finding the frame of lines around his mouth.

A few stray tears leave her eyes, falling to his shirt, until he’s a mess of darker spots spread across his chest. 

She’s looking down noticing the weave of thread and color when he brushes her hair from her face, hooking his fingers through a stray piece caught in the corner of her mouth. His thumbs swipe in circles, making a mess of the layers of tears. He’s touching and delicately dissecting every move of her mouth. Her lids flutter at the ticklish sensation of his index finger touching her eyelashes.

His worship is a wonder.

She’s watching an artist, maybe a sculptor. He’s using his hands and discovering what’s underneath. Every rough edge, every bit of unnecessary material is readily removed, slowly chipping away at her resolve and her fear. 

The initial instinct that he’s making her into something she’s not prickles and catches at the back of her mind, but she reminds herself that in some ways, he’s unchanged.

She remembers the feet that carried her here to him for the first time, so unsure and green.

She’s still all of the things that make her Rey, pressurized by the elements, natural and otherwise.

Not a master shaping the piece into what he deems worthy, maybe that was what she felt before.

She’s her own master.

Ready to reveal herself to him.

She looks back at his face and the lingering hope that he will reveal himself to her persists.

Knowing him, knowing each other in ways that can’t be shared with any other and wanting more.

He places his hand over heart, recognizing the path of her thoughts. That connection, terrifying and mysterious, winds tighter around them, cinching them closer.

_ “Why are you asking about him?” _

Rey grips the memory and tries to push it away.

_ “You know why.” _

She squeezes her eyes shut, physically looking for a way to evade the pain. He begins a slow, savoring kiss and uses a small bite to her lip to lead her to him.

_ “Who are you?” _

_ “Rey.” _

He falls to the mattress, allowing her to sink above him. She yelps as he tugs the thin straps of her bra down, pushing the cups away and letting her breasts fall over his open mouth.

_ “You’re no one.” _

She cries out in pain, pulling back as his teeth attempt to tease and suck at her nipple.

_ Let me in. _

_ Please, let me have this. _

_ Make it hurt. _

_ Please, please, please. _

She reaches for the thoughts, holding them close before they spread too far. 

Her palms reach forward, sliding on the bed and over his head to give his mouth better access. His grip tightens and he’s pulling her down to him, grinding into her hip and forcing her mouth to his.

_ Make it hurt. _

_ Let me in. _

He growls, and flips her over until he’s hovering above. 

Something snaps within him, and she sees the storm approaching.

She’s stripped of the rest of her clothing in a swift motion. He’s kneeling over her as he pushes up his own shirt only stepping back to remove his pants and briefs and tossing them asunder.

Rey has missed the sight of his naked form. He’s still marvelous, although a bit leaner than the last time she saw him this way. He prowls over her, and she can arch into his warmth.

Ben looks down at her, echoing her movements by sliding the soft skin of his hard cock against her hip. She whimpers, twisting in the hopes of letting his length fall just where she wants him.

_ Right where I want you. _

_ No one. _

She shakes her head, batting at the intrusions like working her way through cobwebs in the dark.

_ Alpha, please. _

His teeth grip her neck, holding her still in a way that makes her Omega flutter with joy. It’s an instinct that should calm, steady, and assure, but Rey begins to feel a different energy, an acidic burn to his scent reveal itself and choke.

_ Alpha. _

His hands roam down her body, seeking to open her up, forcing her knees apart and cupping her sex. Releasing the slick waiting for him there, he pushes his fingers inside. She can’t help herself from moaning and nearly crying at the feel of him despite how roughly he’s treating this action.

_ Is this how I get in? _

_ Through your cunt? _

She’s wincing and moaning simultaneously as he adds another finger and crooks and shoves her close to a peak.

It’s too fast.

Her heart is beating too fast, sweat forming on her brow from the effort of tensing and holding herself steady under the onslaught of attention. She’s approaching a release, one that she’s not sure she even wants with the way he’s forcing little whelps and whines. Her slick and his fingers squelch with the rapid thrusts.

It feels so good, but feels empty.

It’s not supposed to be this way, no matter how often she imagined each scenario, she doesn’t want this with Ben.

Not just a chaotic frenzy of fucking.

She wants all.

The revelation is nothing new, but the permission of thought gives way to more, and Rey addresses the next to Ben.

_ I want you, Ben. _

She doesn’t think of the mechanics of it that first time, only knows that its success is now measured by how quickly he growls in response.

_ All of you. _

The bond is crackling and sparking. If she could just grip it tighter and hold it in her hands, but another thrust from him and it slips.

_ Mine. _

_ I want you. _

_ All of you. _

She pushes further, but the lines keep crossing. He’s thrusting through it all, hovering closer and closer. His fingers on her clit won’t distract her, only release her body to him further. 

_ Let me in. _

_ No one. _

_ Rey Nobody. _

_ No one. _

_ Alpha. _

_ Ben. _

_ Kylo. _

They both hiss when he thrusts his cock deep into her core without warning. She’s gripping his shoulders again, hanging onto this new, shaking ledge to keep herself from falling. Each slide in and out is painful, not to her body but to her soul. She bites her lips, begging herself not to cry, not to thrash about.

He feels so good.

He feels right.

He feels like home.

_ Mate. _

_ Alpha. _

_ Home. _

She’s sending it out now with little effort.

Maybe it’s in the air.

Her forearms tremble with the sharp grip, and she wants to dig the tips of her fingers deeper as if trying to keep him from getting away.

_ Rey. _

_ Let me in. _

His head drops, and he tucks his chin, lost in the cocoon he’s creating around her body. 

Ben’s hands.

Oh, his hands.

They curve around her shoulders, placing pressure at the sides of her throat, releasing after a gentle squeeze. He lifts his head. 

_ No one. _

She chokes on a sob.

She pushes forward, both with eyes locked on each other.

_ Let me in.  _

She can almost visualize it, electric blues and reds.

The thoughts layer one over the other until the line becomes clear.

A complete, thin thread vibrating until...

The bond pulls taut.

Rey feels her mind open to him.

It’s a shared thought, a bridged link.

_ Rey. _

_ Rey. _

_ Rey, let me in. _

_ No one. _

Ben is there, too, searching for more, for answers.

_ I’m here. _

_ Don’t leave. _

She’s tightening around him and groaning as his knot expands.

_ Full. _

_ So full. _

Her vision goes blurry from the wet interference of tears.

His knot keeps expanding, and the sensation is confusing.

His and hers pleasure.

Filling and being filled.

_ Closer. _

His hands grasp her waist, pulling her hips flush against him until his knot locks solid and binds them together. She grasps tighter, and closes her eyes, surrendering to the feel of him inside her. 

_ Finally. _

It’s not her thought, but it’s one that she shares, and her voice splits the thick, hot air with a loud sob.

_ Finally. _

Rolling to his side and tucking her close, he pulls the crumpled sheet over their bodies. It’s a thin cover, but the gesture isn’t lost on Rey. He takes her pain and shelters them both, his hands wiping away her messy face and letting her weep openly into the space above them.

The view of the ceiling, the memory of waking here next to him for the first time, the cruelty of the separation. 

Wracking sobs that feel neverending.

She feels a small tug in her mind and recognizes Ben as the caller.

He reaches for her, turning her face to look into her eyes, whatever their state.

She closes her eyes, holding tight as her chin rests in the hold between his index finger and thumb while he sucks at her gland. He’s coating his tongue with the combination of their scents, his body flooding her insides with his spend.

Relaxing again underneath his touch, she feels him pull the line again. 

The color deepens as she responds.

It always seemed easier for him, even in the stark, lonely room with the separation of glass between them. Ben let himself connect to her even when they sat with their arms folded, avoiding any touch, just letting the rejection flow back and forth. Rey would drive home, clutching the steering wheel of her car, desperate to understand how he could feel everything.

Envious.

So deeply envious of the way he could tap into it.

Ben’s movements slow, and she wonders what he feels from her now. 

Does he sense the confusion of emotions churning through? 

Can he see the string of pictures in her mind?

The fear, the relief.

The pain, the desire.

His palm rests on one side of her neck, his lips the other.

_ I hate myself for not giving you more. _

It's a thought that lashes through her mind, but one she winces at, reacting to the wash of shame and hurt it brings.

_ I hate myself for driving you away, not telling you about my past. _

She looks at his face.

It’s perfect.

Maybe how it was always meant to be.

The bond is this seemingly fragile, but freely moving connection of communion between them.

She strokes his eyebrows, smoothing the lines of his face as his jaw rolls and moves side to side with a few stray tears from his own eyes.

He looks up at her, and she feels the hesitation.

_ I hate that I still want you. _

_ I hate that I still care. _

Ben doesn’t hide those things away for her to discover on her own. He lays them at her feet as he runs his hands over her breasts, the dip of her waist, and down the cleft of her backside.

She shivers as more of his spend floods her womb, the feeling of pleasure beginning to mix with the pain perfectly.

_ I wanted you to mate me. _

_ I was scared of what that meant. _

_ Who I would become. _

The breath that leaves his mouth…

_ Rey. _

He grinds his hips, his knot tugging and filling the room with their collective groan.

He doesn’t have any more room or way to fuck her, but he moves and tries to roll his hips.

_ Want to stay inside. _

_ Hide you away.  _

Her Omega tears at her insides, clamoring for more of those words.

His forehead pushes against her own.

_ Fuck you.  _

_ Breed you. _

_ Mine. _

She’s barreling backwards down a long, empty corridor in her mind.

“No.”

The objection rings clear, and the bond crackles, shutting the connection.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Ben and Rey have a breakthrough in their bond and the physical aspect of their relationship, but the experience is marred with the pain and thoughts of their past. There are moments where Ben is more rough during sex and Rey experiences some moments of pain. The mentions are brief, but dispersed throughout the chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I am kind of 'meh' on Valentine's Day, I do believe in love and hope.
> 
> And chocolate-covered strawberries :)

What’s left?

Is there _anything_ left?

How do you build something from salvaged pieces?

Do you start fresh?

Or do you examine everything at your feet?

Keep what can be repurposed, let the bits of dust get swept away with a strong wind.

They weren’t really necessary anyway.

It was just the little bits, the extra material not good enough to build a home.

The secrets.

The baggage.

Like being flung far away, she’s still in motion.

Reeling.

Weightless.

It’s futile, but she reaches out nevertheless.

Ben.

She paws at his chest as if it’s possible to claw her way back in through his beating heart.

“Ben.”

He grabs her at her nape, pulling her to him as she flails.

“Ben.”

Her nails scrape and her hips jerk, desperate to see his face.

Locked.

  
  
His grip tightens, the muscle of his arm flexing and twisting to hold her still while her limbs seek leverage to remove herself from the comfort of his hands.

She’s been hungry before.

Empty cabinets.

Forgotten grocery list on the counter.

Her stomach aching and gnawing for relief.

This feels worse.

His limbs tremble around her as he comes again without warning. They each moan, the pleasure dissolving into confused and exaggerated breaths.

“Ben.”

She can’t stop saying it.

“Ben.”

He squeezes his arms around her, stroking her hair and planting apologetic kisses on her cheeks, eyes, and ears. She’s shaking her head, wishing for words this time.

He pulls away to look at her before burying his face in her neck.

The room is still. A moment, once triumphant, is now a wasteland, punctuated by the mess of clothing and sheets. The pleasing scent of sweat and the skin of young gods now a foul stench that suffocates.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m sorry, Rey.”

It’s muffled in her skin, his voice agonizing.

The air begins to clear, finding another balance.

Her eyes flutter as she’s clenching and accepting all of him, her body unaware of the emotional barrier between them.

_“Who are you?”_

_“Ben Solo.”_

_“No, really. Who are you?”_

_“Dr. Benjamin Solo.”_

_“Who’s Kylo Ren?”_

_“He doesn’t exist anymore.”_

The memory presents itself unbidden in her mind just as she recalls, but with _her_ face framed in the light.

The nervous stance, the mistrust waiting opposite his outstretched hands.

She feels the guilt, and takes it in hand much like she has in the past year, now slightly more equipped to examine it.

With his grip tightening into a desperate hold, the connection stretches and glows. Ben is letting her back in. He’s not breaking away. Not snapping it shut. A pulley system of shared thoughts.

She pushes at his shoulders, encouraging him to lift his face.

Their eyes meet, the bond pulsing in a low hum.

Not weak, but maybe tentative in some stretches.

He’s glancing down at her neck and eyeing the mating scar he gifted her.

The questions, the memory.

It feels fresh.

The words still have a temporary residence in her heart.

_Rey stands at the door of the old, fashionable home._

_Her hands tremble as she stands studying the wood grain and the brass, ornamented knob. She’s still unaccustomed to the look of it in the light of day. The shutters have a fresh coat of paint, the doormat is barely worn down. There’s a small houseplant visible from the outside, resting on the window. Likely a gift from someone at a loss for what to bring to a housewarming party._

_Rey doesn’t know if that’s even the case._

_She doesn’t know how long he’s been in this home._

_The words have been playing, running in circles through her mind. It’s a short speech, full of questions. She’s slowly approaching the subject, quietly asking to dip her toes into potentially dangerous waters._

_The knob is warm against her palm as she moves to rap her knuckles against the front door of Ben’s home._

_The thud of footsteps approach and she backs away, nearly tripping down the steps._

_“Rey.”_

_She turns to face the door and meets Ben’s eyes, surprised and happy to see her._

_She feels the moist beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She pats them away, returning to the front step._

_“What are you doing here,” he says, sucking in a breath, “I wasn’t expecting you.”_

_Her eyes dart away, ducking under his arm to make her way inside, her focus on the pointed toes of her shoes. Her mouth waters as she steps inside, his scent heavy and wonderful in the familiar space. Rey hears him shut and turn the lock on the door with a thud that makes her stomach flip. With a couple of steps, he’s behind her, folding her forward with his mouth to her gland._

_He laps with the flat of his tongue and sucks, unable to stop the motion of his hands as they wrap around her, grasping and groping to access every part._

_She feels her body release and rock back, lounging into his frame with her arms draped over his. His hand curls, his palm gliding down from her throat, sternum, and his fingers latching onto the opening of her camisole._

_“I missed you.”_

_The words are soft, barely audible under the purring and panting._

_It slips from her lips, and Ben catches it with a hungry kiss, turning her to face him. He walks her back to the living area, causing her to stumble out of her ballet flats, marking that last place she had a grip on her reality._

_She’s reaching high to hold him, her hands scaling his broad chest._

_“Is that why you came,” he asks, his voice light, pleased._

_She pants. A helpless sound._

_He pulls her closer, licking and nipping at her gland until her toes curl and she’s pushing up onto the balls of her feet._

_His teeth leave little soft indentations in her skin, and she twists and rubs her thighs together. She’s losing herself in him all over again._

_Just like Finn said._

_She’s dismissing all of the secrets that he carries for the relief of a knot._

_For a rough fuck, and a couple of orgasms._

_The dismissive thoughts that collect are the only thing she has to cling to as he sighs in her ears. She’s sure she hears her name._

_“Is that why you came, Rey, to hear that I’ve missed you too?”_

_She shakes her head, her eyes closed, and the darkness behind her lids swirls and drags her further._

_She can hear the smile in his voice as his warm breath passes over her exposed neck._

_He pulls away and his eyes are less heated, his smile more boyish and delighted at the turn of his afternoon. Those beautifully large and possessive hands hold her face, tilting her chin and allowing his thumbs to trace their way down and meet at the hollow._

_“I’ve missed you, too,” he says._

_She could let him fuck her one more time._

_She’ll gladly stay in the twisted torture of this moment._

_Even the ones after._

_Let me have this._

_She’s lost in how he’s looking at her._

_Something to be devoured._

_And doesn’t she want that?_

_Doesn’t she want to be missed and care for and loved?_

_Tiny torches that he holds in his eyes for her reflect back. A little flicker, and she feels the calming sensation of his fingers over her freshly swollen skin._

_Back and forth, back and forth._

_He’s numbing her, making her receptive._

_The seeds have been planted, and the motion leaves her skeptical, her purpose for coming here at once remembered._

_“Who are you?”_

_Her voice cracks as the words leave her mouth. It’s easy enough to practice and perform in front of the bathroom mirror. The experience is altered when faced with the opportunity to split the dream wide open. Ben nearly chuckles at her question, but studying the way her shoulders cave in, he stands upright, fingers resting on her shoulder. He’s waffling, his expressions shifting from concerned to amused._

_He smiles, one corner raised and dimple revealed, “Ben Solo.”_

_“No, really. Who are you,” she asks, pressing ahead._

_His hips shift with his feet as Ben takes in her face, her trembling lips, and the slight jerk of her wrist as he runs his hand over her shoulder to travel down and take her hand. The bottom lip that she loves to devour and suck parts and pauses before Ben speaks slowly._

_“Dr. Benjamin Solo.”_

_The real question._

_That transformative bit of knowledge._

_Rey sees it dawn in his eyes before the words leave._

_“Who’s Kylo Ren,” she asks, blurting it out, mouth forming the words in a mockery of what she rehearsed._

_He pulls away, dropping his hands and working his jaw from side to side. She watches his feet as they rock back, creating a breath of space between them. He breaks eye contact and looks away into a space where she doesn’t exist or belong. The transition happens in a moment, but he collects himself and looks back at Rey._

_He casts his eyes down, “He doesn’t exist anymore.”_

_“Your badge,” she says, regretting it as it leaves her lips._

_Ben doesn’t seem surprised or bothered that her hands were among his things, but he dismisses it, taking a step back and walking toward the open kitchen area to arrange stacks of papers and shut his laptop. He moves to an open wine bottle on the counter, corking it shut, and pulling a beer from the refrigerator. He pops the top and takes a large sip before looking back at her and offering her one with a tap to the bottle with his index finger._

_She shakes her head, watching the silent display in front of her, the labored swallow of a second sip._

_He’s looking away as if the words are written on the wall over her shoulder._

_Searching._

_Rey feels the need to fill in the gaps, offer him all of the things her heart has been begging to hear from him._

_It’s not true._

_It was a mistake._

_“I was a young Alpha, immature, full of rage.”_

_Not that._

_She sighs._

_“So, you became a prominent member of a terrorist organization,” she says, slowly wrapping her mouth around each word, “because of your pheromones.”_

_He blinks, and she catches his fist wrap tighter around the bottle. For a moment, she imagines the glass breaking and becoming dust in his hand._

_“No, I became a member of the First Order, because I made the choice to become a member. They found me, because of my pheromones.”_

_Ben stands, holding his beer and watching her nervously eviscerate the nail on her thumb. The bottle clinks against the counter as he steps forward, reaching to cup her elbows, each point cradled in his large hands. She doesn’t pull away, but her arms cross over her chest, protecting the vital, pounding muscle beneath._

_She feels the tension above her, a breath held and then released, falling over her face._

_His fingers swirl around her elbows, relaxing the grip she has on her own body until her hands rest, clasped over her sternum. Ben is leaning, bending like a willow branch to conceal and hide her from the orange light of the afternoon coming in through the windows._

_His scent curls around her, pulling her towards him._

_His voice is low when he speaks, hesitant, maybe ashamed._

_“I was a kid, fed a steady diet of demihuman propaganda,” he says, “Pretty dark and gloomy for a long time. I changed my name, but I promise that I’m not that person anymore.”_

The lines of his face shift and harden as the memory fades, his thoughts lingering on his own words. He swallows, his eyes in a deep haze.

Floating.

“Who are you,” she asks, pulling the thin sheet around her body and drawing him back.

It had taken longer for his knot to slip from her cunt than it had for him to shut and reopen the bond. 

Her body is at war, desperate for his hands, lips, and maybe the intrusion of another knot, but the connection is bubbling and springing forth new secrets. Even if their hands hesitate to touch, their minds offer a peculiar thread of hope.

They’re parallel, stretched out on the length of the bed, their heads claiming a pillow on each side. 

“I’m someone who thought that I could just leave it behind,” he says, haunted.

_They’re always First Order, Rey._

She presses her lips together to bite back the stray memory, tucking her chin in response to the way it exists for his perusal.

Ben’s eyes scan her face.

“I let my parents sweep it away. I took my suppressants, I finished my education. I began to teach, surrounding myself with people, taking a job that seemed redeemable.” He raises an eyebrow. “Acceptable in my parent’s eyes,” he offers with a small shrug. “I couldn’t be the face of their cause, but I could live an exemplary lifestyle. Teach, talk about things I actually care about,” he says, his body growing still.

Rey feels the sincerity in his path, the disdain at his situation and failures. The needful honesty that they both desire. 

Ben sits up from his place on the bed, his forearms resting against his knees, running his hands through his hair. His head hangs, a mess of dark locks falling around his sharp features like a curtain.

“Then a colleague and family friend sent me a message, some promising student needed a little guidance in pulling their work together.” He glances down at her, smiling fondly, and for a brief moment she sees the vision of herself walking towards him in the hallway, her eyes shining and lithe frame haloed in light. 

She smiles, remembering his tweed coat and reading glasses.

“Of course, I thought you were attractive, and of course, I wanted to fuck you.” 

She surprises herself, a small laugh escaping. 

His grin grows wider, the bond glowing brighter. “It’s true. I didn’t remember seeing anyone in my whole life that smiled quite as large, and often, as you.” Ben slides his hand over rumpled sheets, brushing a thumb over her clasped hands before touching the corners of her mouth. It tickles, causing her to draw back and smile further, lips pressed together. His brow furrows, and his face grows dark, “I really should have been wiser, but I didn’t want to, Rey.”

His shoulders expand and release before he pushes away from the bed, standing and crossing the room to retrieve a pair of briefs to put on. He walks back, his heavy steps slowing at the edge of the mattress.

“It awoke something in me. Something I kept trying to hide and dismiss.”

His thoughts and energy are tangled as they reach her. He drifts away from her briefly, wavering, his eyes closing under a memory of her scent.

Rey shifts, adjusting and twisting beneath the sheet, as if she could hide the climb of heat stretching and grasping at her from all angles. Her fingers find the silver skin on her throat.

He stretches out next to her on his side, “I became single-minded.” He watches her fingers trace. “You were the only goal. The only thing in my life that I wanted.”

She’s there with the scent of them co-mingling.

Ben’s energy embracing and tugging her close.

She opens.

_“What happens now,” she whispers into the shadows._

_Every little piece of her is ablaze, and her pounding heart is no comfort. The evidence of life almost too much. Her chest tightens, and the room is spinning from change._

_She’s not her own._

_She’s another._

_She still possesses the thoughts that bind and knit her together._

_The cold loneliness in the center is beginning to warm and shelter._

_Ben is panting, forehead pressed against her own._

_Her eyes flicker, lids fluttering._

_Mine._

_The word is imprinted there in the dark, eyes closed._

_The thought is not her own._

_“Yours.”_

_Her voice, her lips and tongue. They work on command, but she doesn’t know who holds the key._

_A biological response._

_She’s not certain._

_He exhales, his breath caught in her own throat. It enters forcefully, and she sucks it back, beginning to pull in confusion._

_Thick fingers sweep over the gland, and she winces, the fresh bite a stinging, soothing mess._

_The smell of copper invades her senses for a brief moment as he rubs his fingers through the weeping wound, bringing it forward to his lips and then painting her own._

_She instinctively licks and as the knowledge of the taste reaches her brain, she’s moaning and sucking._

_The flavor is beautiful. She’s never tasted herself, but where she is bright and sweet, the earthy undercurrents of Ben rise to complete._

_A complement._

_“No one has ever belonged to me,” he says._

_Her limbs soften._

_The words nearly cut the strings that she’s been dangling from for so long. The puppetry of being someone, no one, had become such an easy part of her existence, such an easy performance._

_She can hear the sharp shears as they cut through each string to free her from the prison._

_“You’re mine now.”_

_The stinging slice stretches, the sound fading._

_One tiny thread left._

_You’re mine now._

_Rey clutches his shoulders, the remaining tether to her old world still attached._

The long months had given their mating a new light.

What once was the cornerstone of her pain and fear, now the little details adding up to reveal a masterpiece. Little points revealing a grander picture.

She doesn’t have to be ashamed.

The walls she built over the years had served her well.

The walls meant survival.

Grasping at life as it flings you far and wide without a safety net of which to speak.

Mourning yourself as you weather and lose little pieces of innocence and virtue along the way.

It’s holding on for dear life, so when hope actually abides, you add one more layer to insulate yourself.

It stings to view this moment with him.

Feeling his joy, the little bits of wonder as he unwrapped her like a gift. The mutual offering of taste.

Only for her to lay bare the moment that his words kept her cocooned away from him.

Ben holds her hand, flipping her palm up and stroking the gland at her wrist. He’s mulling it over. She can’t see the thoughts, but she sees the effort as it tumbles through his mind. There’s a generous acceptance. His brow furrows, and she doesn’t feel the disappointment or the anger that she expects, although she knows that it’s there.

She feels seen.

As if he’s stroking and caressing more than the tender skin over the gland and veins.

A small nudge to get her attention, and he’s reaching out and pulling the memory a little closer, cherishing it.

Her hand twitches and dances with that extra bit of life, longing to reach back and physically make contact.

He smooths his hand over hers, and Rey feels the space between her brows soften.

Unable to accept the quiet, eager for another word, she can’t help herself, “What happens now.”

The little spell that he’s weaving over her hand breaks. He looks into her eyes and then pauses.

“I don’t know.”

The space between ribs and heart aches, but Rey feels him there, a constant presence. 

He leans forward and lays a single, lingering kiss on her palm, letting his nose drag and inhale over her wrist.

Her breath hitches, and she speaks, feeling the words leave her mouth, unwilling to hide the few tears that leave. “I guess all you’ll need now is to reach out to access all of my secrets.”

There’s relief in those words.

Ben falls to his back, pulling her palm with him until it’s resting over a fiercely beating heart.

“Rey, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please go view and send some love to this beautiful work gifted by @aestivaltide. I think she captured these two quite wonderfully. ❤️
> 
> [Claim by @aestivaltide](https://twitter.com/aestivaltide/status/1360643636254265345?s=20)
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Other works: [CrystalDen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalDen/works)
> 
> Twitter: [@the_crystalden](https://twitter.com/the_crystalden)


End file.
